


(come get me) if your heart is a bad thing

by lipgallagher



Series: fistfight drunk like [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy Kink, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Relationships, Warning: Billy Hargrove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-04-21 05:57:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 67,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14278365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipgallagher/pseuds/lipgallagher
Summary: Billypretendslike he's getting back to work and is totally ignoring Steve, but he still manages to say, "I don't knowwhyyou're getting apurpleone, like you think I'mactuallygoing to drink—""Youlikegrape!""I like grapeGatorade; grapePoweradeis fuckinggross." Steve reaches toward the Gatorade for about two seconds before Billy smacks his hand away, snapping, "No,thoseare a rip-off, they're $1.29, that'scrazy."Steve says, as casually as he can, "I'm going to kill you.""It's notmyfaultyoudon't know how to shop.""Right,yeah, listen, man. How about you just let me do what I want?""Let me do what I want," Billy sneers. "Jesus, yeah,sure, Harrington, likethat'snot going to backfire and ruin myentirelife."ALTERNATIVELY: (more of) a dumb modern supermarket au.





	1. (summer is in the air, and) baby, heaven's in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> so!!!  
> i know.  
> sorry.

**june**

Max announces, at breakfast, "We're doing a sleepover for the fourth of July." 

Steve already knows that. 

But. 

Next to him, Billy eyes Max like he's not too sure where the fuck she came from, steals some toast off Steve's plate, hums, " _Wow_ , how _exciting_." 

Steve looks at his phone. 

Duolingo wants him to practice his Spanish. 

When's the last time he did that? 

Maybe that one time they went to the Applebee's that doesn't card, because they were having a special on _super_ _cheap_ margaritas, and  _Gasolina_  was playing on the speakers there, and then when they came home, Billy played it on repeat, for, like,  _two whole hours_.

Yeah, it was probably after that. 

_God_. 

That was, like.

An _entire_ week ago. 

He's probably  _got_  to open this fucking app if he wants to keep feeling even _sorta_ good about himself, right? 

So, Steve's looking at his phone, Max isn't saying anything, Billy's not saying anything, and there's a good chance they're just caught in one of their usual intense stare-offs, until. 

"Okay, hey, _no_ , what the fuck?!  _Hell_  no! No,  _absolutely not_ , come the  _fuck_  on!" 

"Steve  _already_  said we could!" 

" _Steve said_ ," Billy mocks, pitching his voice up high, just for a second. "Listen to me, hey,  _Steve Harrington_? He is  _not_  your role model. He's a fucking _idiot_."

Steve rolls his eyes, drinks some orange juice, looks back at his phone.

Why the fuck does Duolingo think he knows how to say _good afternoon_ in Spanish?

Steve never even says good afternoon in _English_.

It's, like, a _dead_ part of the English language.

Are people _really_  still going around wishing other people good afternoons, like.

Steve's almost _completely_ sure he's _never_ met anybody like that, so.

Who _are_ those people?

_Why_ are they doing that? 

Don't they know that they're setting a _super_ annoying precedent?

Max looks  _disgusted_ when she snaps, " _Jesus_ , Billy, you _can't_ talk about Steve like that! Do you know how _gross_ that is?!" 

"How is telling the truth _gross_? No, _look_ , I don't actually fucking  _care_ what you think, _no_ , so, hey,  _don't_ listen to Harrington, again, _ever_. God, this is so annoying, but. Okay, like, as a _woman_ , or _whatever_ you are, now, you should be _aware_ that guys are gonna try to talk shit to you, _every day of your life_ , okay? But unless he's your dad, or your brother, or your boyfriend, or some shit, he doesn't _actually_ get to tell you what's up. That being said, unfortunately for _you_ , Maxine,  _I'm_  right here, and  _I'm_  telling you that you and your friends are  _not—_ "

"We're _small_ , Billy, we _won't_ take up that much space!" 

"What you'll  _do_  is get gross germs everywhere _—_ "

" _Billy—_ "

"And make  _all the neighbors_  think we're  _pedos—_ "

"You guys are  _barely even_  older than _—_ "

"I said  _no_ , Maxine!" 

"But I already told Mom about it!" 

"I do not give a  _fuck_!" 

"Billy, she said I could  _only_  go if we did it at your place!" 

And Billy finishes off his coffee, raises his eyebrows, repeats, "I. Don't. Give. A.  _Fuck_." 

" _Steve_ , come on!" 

Honestly, it _does_ seem like an interesting conversation, but.

Steve's still busy trying to figure out this whole Spanish thing, so.

He keeps his mouth shut. 

Max declares, " _God_ , I fucking  _hate_  you guys," and gets up, grabs Lucas, who's been standing right next to their table since Max sat down five minutes ago, being quiet and looking uncomfortable and maybe feeling scared of Billy, or something, finishes, "Let's  _go_ , we have to figure something  _else_  out, 'cause Billy is a  _fucking cocksucking asshole_!"

Billy lifts his middle finger over his head, then drops his arm down until it's flat against the back of Steve's chair, like, "You could've helped me out, there, you know that?"

Yeah, Steve  _does_  know that. 

What he _wants_ to know is, "Hey, how do you say  _apple_  in Spanish? Like, I mean, how do you  _spell_  it?" 

Billy lets out a startled little laugh, grabs Steve's iPhone out of his hands, types for about a minute before he gives it back. 

Duolingo says Steve now has ten new experience points, because the lesson's been completed, but. 

"I'm not  _actually_  gonna learn it if you always do it  _for_  me." 

Billy rolls his eyes. "Nobody out here's  _actually_  speaking Spanish, so. You're gonna be  _just_  fine, sweetheart." 

" _You_  speak Spanish." 

" _Yeah_ , because I'm from California, where it's  _basically_  a required survival skill." 

" _Oh, I'm Billy Hargrove, I go to the gym, and I drive really fast, and I'm so cool, 'cause I'm from LA_ ," Steve drawls mockingly, puts away his phone, pulls out his wallet so they can pay and go the fuck home, at some point that's _hopefully_ in the near future. "Jesus, we all fucking _know_ , just shut  _up_  about it, already."

" _Don't_  tell me to shut up." 

"Okay, _yeah_ , no, I won't, like,  _ever_   _again_."

"I can _tell_ you think you're funny, but I'm being  _so_  fucking serious," Billy informs him, but he's shaking his head, licking his lips, smiling really wide. "I'm not taking any disrespect from you just 'cause you give me head sometimes."

" _Sometimes_ ," scoffs Steve, who's given Billy head, like,  _ten times_  in the past  _three days_ , alone.  

"I'm gonna hit you in the fucking  _mouth_ , pretty boy." At the table next to them, there's an older guy who's just been sitting there for awhile doing nothing, like maybe he's waiting for somebody, and he gives Billy this long hard critical stare, before he sighs and goes back to ignoring them. "Don't fucking  _push_  me." 

"What, you  _really_  wanna get kicked out of an IHOP 'cause you just  _had_  to beat me up,  _right_   _now_?" 

"I've been kicked out of dumber places for  _much_  dumber shit," Billy assures him, standing up, grabbing his jacket, shoving his hands against Steve's back until he starts walking.

"Yeah, okay, _Ike Turner_ , thanks for _—_ "

And Steve stops, because there's a woman walking up to them, a woman Steve fucking  _knows_ , and it's not like he knows her the way he just kinda vaguely knows _most_ people in Hawkins, but. 

He  _actually_   _knows_ her. 

"Hi, honey!" 

"Hi, Ms Byers." Steve wants to fucking  _die_. "Um, this is Billy."

"Yeah,  _genius_ , she knows who I fucking  _am_ ," Billy says, rolling his eyes, shooting Ms Byers a quick annoyed almost-apologetic smile, glancing back at Steve before deciding, "I'm gonna go pay."  

Steve feels awkward, and a little scared, and.

And, well, that's not  _fair_ , because it's not like he's doing anything  _wrong_ , okay, it's just.

Max knows, and Steve thinks Dustin _might_ know, but that's about it, because.

Well, he and Billy just haven't exactly _told_ anybody they're together, yet, just because it's not _exactly_ a real relationship, so there's not exactly a real  _point_ , and. 

And Ms Byers asks, "He's not a morning kinda guy, huh?"

"Uh, no," Steve laughs nervously. "Not really." 

Ms Byers nods, makes a fidgety little gesture with one hand, says, "Yeah, mine's not, either. Hey, Hop? This is Steve. He babysits Will and his friends, sometimes."

It's not really _babysitting_ , because they're all, like,  _fifteen_ , now, but. 

Steve turns, and.

Yeah,  _great_.

So, the guy who just heard Billy threaten to hit Steve in the fucking face in a public setting is?

What, Ms Byers' new _boyfriend_ , or something? 

Jesus  _Christ_. 

Steve shakes his hand, quickly, mumbles, "Um, really nice to meet you, I. I'm sorry, I'm just kinda in a rush, so." 

Ms Byers smiles at him, nods, goes, "Oh, sure, honey! We'll see you!"  

"Yeah, um. Yeah, bye." 

 

 

 

 

Now that it's almost summertime, there are, like, _ten_ new people working part-time at the registers, so Billy's on them a lot less. 

When Steve finally finds him,  _Glamorous_  is playing on the sound system, and Billy looks like he's going to commit a  _murder_. 

Steve waits for the best part, the part where Ludacris is just casually like, _if you ain't got no money, take your broke ass home_ , before he says, because it's fucking  _true_ , "I  _love_  this song." 

"I've heard it _six_ _times_ _today_."

Steve aims for his best impression of Billy Hargrove when he goes, " _Goddamn_ , what a _bummer_." 

Billy lets a weird little clicking noise come out of his mouth, licks his lips, drops his voice into this  _annoyingly_ hot raspy tone when he's like, " _How_ many times do you need me to say I'm gonna hit you before you _fucking_ take me seriously?" 

"Another fifty, maybe? Seventy-five?" 

"That sounds  _real_  time-consuming, Harrington, I don't know." Billy stops stocking Gatorade, stops looking moderately-to-severely murderous, eyes Steve thoughtfully, instead. "It's, like,  _one-thirty_."

"Yep." 

"And you're not at work." 

"Nope." 

"So," Billy nods, looking tired, like. Like, just in  _advance_ , which is _really_ fucking unfair, because there's no way that just _talking_ to Steve is more exhausting than stocking endless bottles of glorified juice, or listening to the same Fergie song six times, or, like. _Any_ of the other shit Billy's probably had to do today. "I'll regret asking, 'cause I  _don't_  really care, but. I mean, I know you don't _really_ need the money, but, like, you're out here just  _trying_  to get fired, now, or what?" 

"Dad gave me the afternoon off, like, _three_ weeks ago, 'cause we were gonna take Mom to? Lunch. Or. Or somewhere, I guess, I don't know. It's her birthday."

Steve's not planning on going into more detail, really, because he's.

Well.

Okay,  _fine_ , he's lying, a little bit, but. 

Billy doesn't need to know about that.

"They skip town, again?" 

" _Yep_ ," Steve repeats easily, like he doesn't care. He  _fucking_  cares. He's  _really_  fucking upset. What the  _fuck_. His dad's  _such_  a fucking dick. "I might, like. Cook dinner, or something."

Billy's looking at him like he thinks Steve's going to collapse and break into ten thousand pieces, or something, but.   
  
Steve's not going to do that. 

His parents are  _always_  out of town, his dad is  _always_  disappointing him, his mom probably didn't even  _know_  about the dumb lunch that never happened, so. 

It's fine.

Business as usual. 

Billy turns back to his wall of sports drinks, like, "I want garlic bread."

"Good idea. Cool. I'll get some." 

Steve walks two steps away, then Billy calls, "Harrington!" He stops, turns, and Billy's holding out a bottle of Powerade, like, "These are 59 cents right now." 

"But...you'll forget about it?"

Billy snaps his fingers, points at Steve, winks, " _That's_ right." 

Steve rolls his eyes, grabs two more Powerades, just for good measure. 

And Billy  _pretends_  like he's getting back to work and is totally ignoring Steve, but he still manages to say, "I don't know  _why_  you're getting a _purple_ one, like you think I'm  _actually_  going to drink _—_ " 

"You  _like_  grape!" 

"I like grape  _Gatorade_ ; grape  _Powerade_  is fucking  _gross_." Steve reaches toward the Gatorade for about two seconds before Billy smacks his hand away, snapping, "No,  _those_  are a rip-off, they're $1.29, that's  _crazy_." 

Steve says, as casually as he can, "I'm going to kill you."

"It's not  _my_  fault  _you_  don't know how to shop."  

"Right, _yeah_ , listen, man. How about you just let me do what I want?" 

" _Let me do what I want_ ," Billy sneers. "Jesus, yeah,  _sure_ , Harrington, like  _that's_  not going to backfire and ruin my  _entire_   _life_."

 

 

 

 

Steve buys Powerade, buys garlic bread, gets home and thinks about just going to bed early.

He probably won't be able to sleep, but he can just hang out until Billy gets home. 

Is that lame? 

Probably, right? 

He stands in the kitchen, loosens his tie, eats half of a  _huge_  bag of Garden Salsa Sunchips, even though they're, like, the  _worst_  kind of Sunchips, because Billy got them for free last week, but he keeps saying that he _hates_ Sunchips and is  _never_  gonna eat them, so. 

There's a muted kinda vibrating noise coming from Steve's jacket, where his phone's going off, but.

Steve doesn't want to check it, because it's not gonna be Billy, because he only texts at work when it's slow and he's on the register, and it's not his parents, because they're on a plane, and there's nobody else who _matters_ , so. 

He throws the rest of the Sunchips in the trash, turns on the TV, thinks about taking a shower. 

 

 

 

 

When Steve's out of the shower, Dustin's knocking on the front door. 

Steve _still_ doesn't want to deal with anybody today, but he opens the door, anyway, because he feels bad for thinking that there was nobody who mattered, because.

Dustin is  _right here_.

This is _possibly_ the wildest thing that's _ever_ happened to Steve.

He's never  _forgotten_  about Dustin, before. 

"Jesus fucking  _Christ_ , dude! You know, I've been out here, for, like, _ten minutes_?!" 

" _Wow_ ," Steve gasps. "Ten  _whole_  minutes? Saint fucking Dustin, over here,  _God_ , I'm so  _sorry_  for all your  _pain—_ "

"Okay _—_ "

"The  _trauma_  you've experienced _—_ "

" _Alright—_ "

"I mean,  _shit_ , Dustin! That is a  _long_  time to  _stand around_  in  _an air-conditioned hallway—_ " 

" _Okay_ , that is  _enough_! You don't get to be _mean_ to me today, asshole," Dustin interrupts, loudly. "Where the  _hell_  have you been all day?! I've been calling you like you owe me money!" 

"I don't know? Here, mostly." 

"Oh. Then _why_ did you go off-grid?!"

" _What_."

" _Ugh_ , whatever,  _look_ , is Billy in there?" 

"No?"

" _Excellent_ ," says Dustin, right before he pushes Steve out of his way and walks into the apartment.

Steve blinks out at the empty hallway, then closes the door, follows after Dustin, calling, "Um, so, wait,  _what's_  going on?" 

Dustin's pulling things out of his backpack, out of the fridge, out of the one cupboard Billy and Steve ever actually keep food in, but,  _honestly_?

They  _only_  have that stuff in there because Dustin came over last month, ranting about how he had just stayed up all night binge-watching  _Fear The Walking Dead_ , and so he had decided that everyone needed to start keeping flour and sugar and other basic shit like that in their kitchens, just so none of them get fucked over too bad during the eventual apocalypse. 

Steve's pretty sure  _Fear The Walking Dead_  is supposed to be, like, just an even  _dumber_  version of  _The Walking Dead_ , which is  _already_  pretty fucking dumb, but he knows that the hot old guy from  _Supernatural_  has a baseball bat with a bunch of nails in it, or something, on  _The Walking Dead_ , and, like. 

Yeah, admittedly,  _that's_  pretty cool, but otherwise, the whole thing seems like bullshit. 

"What are you  _doing_ , man?" 

"What do you  _think_  I'm doing, Steve?" 

Steve fucking  _hates_  that shit. 

If he's  _asking_  a fucking question, he'd  _like_  to just get an answer so he can move  _on_  with his fucking life. 

He's about to  _say_  so, but then Dustin pulls a little baby Ziploc out of his jeans, like, "I had to pay  _extra_  so they'd roll it for me, so you better get, like. Higher than you've  _ever_  been,  _ever_." 

"What the fuck, I. You bought  _weed_  for me?" 

" _Duh_? That's what friends are  _for_ , Steve."

And, okay, so, this whole thing  _reeks_  of pity, it  _really_  does, but it's.

Also really cute?

Like, not to be dumb and gay and dramatic, or anything, but.

Steve might  _cry_ , or something. 

It's  _that_  fucking cute. 

 

 

 

 

"You're going to get salmonella and die." 

Steve is eating cookie dough out of a mixing bowl, so he's  _actually_  kinda busy, so he doesn't answer, just points at Dustin who's sitting cross-legged in front of the stove, playing around on his phone, and Dustin doesn't even  _look_  at Billy when he sighs, "Salmonella isn't  _real_ , Billy Hargrove."

"Oh, yeah?" Billy challenges, crossing his arms, scowling. "Then how come I spent  _three hours_  today putting up recall notices by all the gross Pillsbury shit?" 

Dustin mouths at Steve,  _gross?_

Steve shrugs.

Dustin wonders, "Look, what's  _wrong_ with you? Don't you  _eat_?"  

" _Yes_ , dipshit, I fucking  _eat_ , but I also go to the fucking  _gym_ , okay? I need  _protein_ , 'cause I'm not a fucking _kid_ , or a weak little babysitter with  _no_  upper body strength _—_ " 

Steve mumbles defensively, "I  _have_  upper body strength."

" _Don't_ give me that bullshit, King Steve; you are the most  _pathetic person I know_." 

"That  _can't_  be true." 

"You are licking  _cookie batter_  off a fucking _plastic spoon_  at  _ten PM_!"

"Cookie  _dough_. And salmonella really  _isn't_  anything to worry about! Look, let me break it down for you _—_ "

"I do  _not_  want that. _No_." Billy cuts Dustin off, scowls irritably at Steve, demands, "Are _you_ stoned?" 

Steve nods.

" _Jesus_. Fuck, _fine_ , Henderson, if you want a fucking ride home, we're leaving  _right_  the fuck now." 

"But I need these cookies for class tomorrow!" Dustin protests, "They need to bake for three more minutes!" 

"I  _honestly_ do not care." 

"Come  _on_ , Billy, let him  _live_ ," Steve's like. 

"I don't  _have_  to drive him home," Billy points out. "He can fucking  _walk_ , if that's what you  _want_." 

"It's  _late_!" 

"You should've thought of that before."

"What if somebody  _murders_  him?!" 

"Then I'll be jealous it wasn't  _me_  who got to do it, so  _what_?" Billy stops, then, turns his assessing gaze over to Dustin. "Where the hell did  _you_  score drugs from, anyway?" 

"What? I didn't!" 

"Oh, yeah? You just got Harrington high off  _nothing_?" 

Steve cuts in, " _I_  had drugs." 

Billy pulls a carton of Welch's passion fruit juice out of the fridge, drinks a few gulps, puts it back as he asks, "Now, I'm confused, sorry, do I  _like_  it when you lie to me, Harrington, or do I fucking  _hate_  it?" 

"Um. You hate it?" 

"Yeah.  _Yeah_ , that sounds like me." Billy raises an eyebrow at Dustin, who looks hopefully at Steve, but Steve's not really sure there's a point in trying to lie to Billy, anymore, so. 

He shrugs again.

Dustin groans, " _Fine_ , Jesus, _okay_ , El got it for me!" 

"Who?" 

"Mike's girlfriend, El? She's new! She's from Chicago." 

"Wait,  _why_  would you tell me that?! I do  _not_  care!" 

"If you  _don't_  care, why don't you  _stop_   _asking me questions_?!" 

"This is  _my fucking apartment_ , asshole, so when you're  _in_  it without  _my_  goddamn permission, I can ask you  _all_  the fucking questions I  _want_ , Jesus  _fucking_  Christ.  _Kids_  these days _—_ "

" _You're_  a kid! You're, like,  _two_  years older than me!" 

" _Four_ ," Billy snarls. "I am  _four_  years older than you. Don't come into  _my_  house, get  _my_  boyfriend stoned off his ass until he's fucking  _lying_  to me about shit, then try and tell  _me_  what to fucking  _do_ , okay? You do  _any_  of that again, and I'm _literally_ going to fucking kill you." 

Dustin looks  _dangerously_  like somebody who's about to roll his eyes and then get  _actually murdered_  in Steve's apartment, so. 

Steve points out, "I'm  _not_  your boyfriend. You say that to me, like,  _every_  day." 

Billy gives him a very condescending smile. " _I_  don't need to be  _yours_  in order for  _you_  to be  _mine_ , and  _that's_  what I say to you every fucking day." 

That's really mean. 

Steve should  _say_  that it's mean. 

Maybe Billy just doesn't  _know_.

The oven timer starts beeping, and Billy goes, " _Hallelujah_ , it's about  _fucking_  time."  

 

 

 

 

Billy leaves to take Dustin home, comes back, finds Steve watching  _Atlanta_  in the living room.

"Is that the guy from  _Community_?"

"You watched  _Community_? What, like.  _All_  of it? My man, that show was  _so_  fucking  _bad_."

"Shut _up_ ; I had a crush on Joel McHale for a long time." 

"Oh my  _God_ ," Steve breathes, feeling  _beyond_  delighted. "Of  _course_  you did! That's the  _best_ ; I  _love_  that! Why the fuck didn't you just watch  _The Soup_  like  _everybody else_?!"

" _Yeah_ , I watched that  _too_ , okay, it was a _serious crush_ , I watched _all_ his shit." Billy rolls his eyes, sits down on the end of the couch, pulls Steve's legs across his lap. "Henderson's mom said to tell you happy birthday." 

"Cool, thanks." 

Billy raises his eyebrows.

" _What_?" 

"So, it's your birthday?" 

" _Yes_ ," Steve's like. "Why did you  _think_  Dustin got me high and made me cookies?" 

"Thought the cookies were for school." 

"No, that was a lie. They were for _me_ , 'cause it's my _birthday_. He probably left them in your car, right?"

Billy says, slowly, " _Yeah_. I told Max I'd take her to school, so I was. Gonna give them to her in the morning." 

"That's cute," Steve decides, after thinking about that for a minute. "Why're you driving Max, again?" 

"She's got her fucking  _period_ , I'm not gonna make her skate _all the way over there_ , I'm not a fucking  _asshole_." 

"Yeah, no, but. I mean, you know you  _are_ , though, right?" 

Billy watches Donald Glover being cool and Lakeith Stanfield being hot, for a little while, in silence, and then he sighs, "You have to  _tell_  me stuff, sometimes, or I'm not going to fucking  _know_." 

What the fuck is Billy  _talking_  about?

Steve tries _,_  "Okay?" 

Billy turns his head to the side, gives Steve this long searching look, then pats at one of his calves, stands up, says, "I'm taking a shower." 

 

 

 

 

On the day after his birthday, Steve doesn't have the day off work, but it's not like Dad's gonna know  _anyway_ , so when his alarm goes off at six, he hits snooze, then turns his phone off when it just keeps fucking _going_. 

By the time he's up, out of bed, eating cookies for breakfast, he decides to turn his phone back on, and. 

He doesn't have a lot of notifications, but there's one that's a text from Max, reading,  _idk wtf u did but TY i love u id die for u_

Steve blinks, texts,  _??_

_billy said we cld sleepover!!!!_

Steve's first thought is that this is some type of elaborate joke, on Billy's part, that's going to upset _everybody_ , and they're _all_ going to team up to kill him, and they're going to expect Steve to help, and _that's_ gonna suck, a  _lot_ , because if he  _doesn't_  help them, they'll probably kill him  _too_ , so that means he's going to  _have_  to help murder Billy, like.

He can't exactly see a way  _around_  it. 

Max adds,  _he was a dick abt it tbf but like thts normal?_ _& then he got out of the car in front of EVERY1 and gave lucas a box of durex??? _ _i s2g steve i almost died it was so fucking embarrassing_

Steve stares at his phone in shock for five minutes, then finishes the cookie that's been in his hand this whole fucking time, texts back,  _welcome2mylife.mp3_

 

 

 

 

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" 

"We needed paper towels." 

"You never clean _anything_ ," Billy reminds him. "You don't know _how_. How could you _ever_ need paper towels?"

Steve _knows_ how to clean things.

He _does_.

He rolls his eyes, taps in his rewards card number, asks, "Look, you wanna give me a hard time, or do you wanna maybe just do your job?"

"You're underestimating me, pretty boy. I can _definitely_ do both." 

Steve _knows_  that Billy is, like.

Secretly smart, and vaguely good at things, but. 

He's not sure if he believes that Billy's all that great at multitasking, just because he hasn't ever seen much evidence supporting that, so. 

"So, you know how this place is, like. Kinda busy, these days?" 

"Yeah?" 

"But...you're _still_ fucking with the sound system?" 

Billy narrows his eyes. "It's _practically dead_ tonight." 

"Yeah, but. Okay, _I_ like A$AP Ferg, _too_ , but I kinda just feel like any song that is basically _all_ about blowjobs  _probably_ shouldn't be playing at the _grocery store_?" 

"This song is _not_ about blowjobs," says Billy, right when that line that's like _check in with me and do your job_ , which was _absolutely_ a line from that ancient song _Slob On My Knob_ , first, which was a semi-gross song that is _totally_ all about sex, comes over the speakers, and. Steve opens his mouth, closes it, blinks a few times, out of pure fucking shock. Billy doesn't make eye contact with him when he insists, "It's _not_. Your total is $3.29." 

Nice and slow, so Billy won't miss the entire fucking _point_ , Steve tells him, "You are going to get _fired_." 

" _Yeah_ , and that would be a _real_ bummer." Steve must be making some sorta hyper-judgmental face, because Billy adds, sounding sulky and tired and like he thinks it means a _lot_ more than it really does, "Listen, it's the _censored_ _version_ , so _—_ " 

" _Wow_ , Hargrove, what a _sacrifice,_  for you _—_ "

Billy leans over his counter, grabs a handful of Steve's shirt, drags him a little bit closer, going, " _Plain Jane_ is a _classic—_ "

"Didn't it _just_ come out, like, _last year_?"

"It's _modern art_!" Steve laughs, because he _can't_ fucking help it, and. That's when Billy lets him go, glares, spits, "Okay, unless you _want_ me to fucking kill you, King Steve, you gotta go home, like. _Right_ now." 

Steve rolls his eyes again, grabs his bag of totally unnecessary paper towels, goes, " _Alright_ , my man. See you later." 

 

 

 

 

**july**

"You don't get to judge _my_  music when yours is  _this_   _bad_ ," Billy decides, after he's spent a few minutes staring at the collection of CDs Steve stole from his parents' place when he moved out. "Like, I wouldn't even want this shit played at my fucking  _funeral_."

Billy's newest hobby is fucking Steve really good, like, really really  _really_  good, grinning smugly, and then  _immediately_ dragging Steve for everything he currently hates about him, while Steve's still too blissed out to get angry about it. 

It's the  _worst_. 

Like,  _yeah_ , Steve's not  _angry_ , but he's still  _annoyed_.

If  _Steve_  had ever done anything like this to anybody he went out with, they would've broken up with him. 

He can't _really_ break up with Billy, though, because they still aren't _really_ dating, and.

Well, they signed a 12-month lease, and everything, so. 

He's _stuck_.

"I  _hate_  you." 

"That's a lie." Steve's phone vibrates, and without picking it up, or looking at it, or anything a _normal person_ would probably do, Billy adds, "Tell Henderson to quit texting you at 2AM; it's  _fucking_ weird." 

"We're  _friends_!"

"He's, like,  _twelve_!" 

"You text Max  _all the time_." 

"I  _only_  text Max to send her important reminders that are gonna help her out in life, like. When I remind her that I hate her, and that she can't steal my shit and expect me not to kill her for it, and that I no longer only fucking _live_ to drive her around, so she needs to figure out the fucking Hawkins bus system, already, and that's  _it_." 

" _Yeah_ ," Steve allows, because he's _seen_ some of Billy's texts to Max, and that pretty much _does_ sum it up, except. "But you do that, like, a  _hundred_ times a day." 

"She texts me  _first_!" 

"I think you're protesting too much, my man." 

"I  _hate_  it when you call me that. It sounds fucking  _gay_." 

" _You_ sound gay," Steve informs him. "Like,  _every_  day of your life, you sound  _real_ gay. You're also, not to be a dick, but you're in my bed, _right now_ , 'cause we  _just_  had sex, okay?  _Gay sex_." 

"I'm  _fluid_ ," Billy snaps, climbing off Steve's bed, standing at the end of it, instead, crossing his arms over his chest. " _How_  many fucking times do I have to  _say_  that shit to you?" 

"Say it as  _much_  as you want; it's  _never_ going to make sense." 

" _Goodnight_ , Harrington." 

As Billy storms out of his room, Steve shouts, "If you _wanna_ cuddle, you should just come back  _now_ , 'cause you  _know_ I'm gonna lock my door, man!" 

"So  _fucking_ lock it, bitch, I don't  _fucking_ care!" 

Steve rolls his eyes, gets out of bed, locks the door. 

 

 

 

 

_ok but open the door im goo dnow_

_r u drunk?_

_lmao_  Billy replies.  _a$apwild4thenight.mp3_

Steve rolls his eyes, gets out of bed, opens the door. 

Billy's leaning heavily against the wall in the hallway, looking too drunk to move, but he must be at least  _vaguely_  alive, because he's been texting, so. 

Steve sighs, " _Hargrove_?" 

" _Oh_ ," Billy yawns, stands up straight, drops his phone into one of the dumb zippered pockets on his joggers. "Hi." 

"Hi." 

"Was missing you." 

"It's been  _two hours_ ," Steve points out, because it's  _true_ , but also because, _honestly_? He hasn't missed Billy at  _all_. Steve's been  _asleep_. He used to have a lot of trouble getting to sleep, but it's always  _really_ easy to sleep after fucking Billy, probably because of all the weird dreamy sex chemicals flowing through his body, but  _also_  probably because sex with Billy is the most athletic shit Steve's done in  _years_. 

"Two real  _long_ hours," Billy agrees, pushing past Steve, falling face down onto the bed, before he demands, "You didn't change the fucking  _sheets_?" 

" _Why_  would I do that?" 

"You've just been  _sleeping_ in here?!" 

"It's  _four in the morning_!" 

" _Gross_."

"Who the fuck  _am_  I, _Mary Poppins_? I'm not  _cleaning_  my  _bedsheets_ , no, that's  _dumb—_ " 

Slowly, Billy asks, " _Wait_ , since we  _moved in_ , you haven't cleaned your goddamn sheets?"

" _No_."

" _Up_ ," Billy's like, immediately, even though  _he's_  the one lying down.

Steve raises his eyebrows.

His fingers are all twitchy, because they're smarter than the rest of him, probably, and are, therefore,  _totally_ desperate to pick up his phone.

He should be  _filming_  this.

Billy's  _not_ going to believe it in the morning, if Steve just  _tells_  him about it. 

"I  _am_  up." 

"Oh. It's just _me_ down here?" 

"Yeah, man." 

Billy sighs, then stumbles up and back out the door, grabs onto Steve's wrist, like, "My bed's better than yours,  _anyway_." 

"It's  _really_  not." 

"It  _is_!"

"It  _creaks_!" 

" _Yeah_ , and that's how I know I'm doing it  _right_." 

Steve's _pretty_ _sure_ he knows what that means, and he doesn't _really_ think it's anything that _needs_ to be discussed, like.

It probably doesn't require even a _little_ bit of discussion.

_Still_ , just to be _sure_ , he checks, "How you know you're doing  _me_ right?" 

"Yeah." 

" _Sure_ , okay, listen up, Hargrove. You ever stop giving it to me the way I want, I'mma  _tell_ you, okay? I'm gonna be  _real_  loud about it."

They're _so_ close to actually being in Billy's room when Billy just _stops_  in the hall, grins at Steve, asks, "Gonna get  _loud_ for me, King Steve?" 

"Oh,  _God_." 

" _Yeah_ , 'cause you know the way I like it, now, _don't_ you?' 

"Shut  _up_ , man, Jesus  _Christ—_ " 

Billy backs him up against his door, puts his hands on the wall, cages Steve in, like, "Nah, nah, come  _on_ , do it  _right_." 

" _What_?" 

"Say it  _right_ , for me." 

"What the fuck are you  _talking_  about?" 

" _My man_ ," Billy mocks, breathy and dreamy and  _dumb_ , even though Steve  _definitely_ doesn't sound like that,  _ever_. 

Steve tells him, "Oh, just shut the fuck up."

"I  _like_  it." 

"Yeah, okay." 

"I  _do_!" 

"You're  _drunk_ , Billy." 

"Yeah, but I like when. When we're, all, like. Like people who got it real bad, you know? I  _like_ that shit." 

Sometimes, not a lot, but  _sometimes_ , Billy will try to tell Steve something just because he thinks it's what Steve wants to hear, like.

It's  _obvious_  that he doesn't mean it, but he'll say it,  _anyway_ , and.

And either that's what's happening right now, or this is just getting sorta heavy, and again, Steve should've  _filmed_  it, because Billy  _won't_  believe it really happened, but Steve's  _not_  excited about potentially being stuck out here in the hallway all night, so. 

"Okay? Glad you like it. Come on, man."

" _No_ ," Billy whines, shoving Steve back, again, even though he  _barely_  even managed to take a whole step forward. "No, you have to do it like I  _want_  it." 

"This is the  _dumbest_  kink I've  _ever_  heard of." 

"Says the guy who blushed for three days straight after I said I'd spank you, like the whole goddamn  _world_  didn't agree that spanking is  _not even_   _weird anymore_ , after, like, whatever,  _2011_ , or something, so. Yeah,  _no_ , you don't get to kinkshame  _me_ , Harrington." 

Steve rolls his eyes, gets an arm around Billy's shoulders, settles his hand against the back of Billy's neck, murmurs, "I actually get to do  _whatever_ I want, my man." 

Billy kisses him, then, hot and wet and filthy, gets his tongue all over _every_ last little bit of Steve's mouth, over even the _sharpest_ edges of Steve's teeth, pulls away just enough to laugh, " _God,_ I fucking _love_ you, you know that?"

No.

No, Steve  _didn't_  know that. 

It's.

It's  _early_ , for that. 

He can't say it back.

After what happened with Nancy? 

He  _can't_  say it back. 

And.

_Jesus_.

Knowing what Billy's like? 

Yeah, no.

He  _can't_  do it. 

He bites his lip, and it's still dark, so Billy probably doesn't know, but Steve thinks he's shaking, a little bit. 

He doesn't really want to go into Billy's room with him, anymore, but Billy's not going to go by himself, so. 

"Let's get you to bed before you freeze." 

"I  _won't_  freeze. I was  _born_  in the cold. I was born in  _water_ , I ever tell you that? Like, Pamela Anderson had just done it, so it was trendy, or some shit, and my mom was all like,  _great, let's do that, too_ , and my dad just  _went_  with it, but _—_ " 

Steve doesn't know what the fuck any of this shit even  _means_.

"Just in  _case_  you get cold, then, okay? Come on."  

 

 

 

 

It's an  _accident_.

Honest to God, it's a _fucking_ accident, but Steve has the day off work, and he kinda  _completely_  forgets why, so he agrees to go shopping with his mom, last-minute.

It's pretty rare for her to want to hang out, so if he turns her down, she might not ask again, for, like, the _rest of his life_ , and anyway, he's pretty sure  _shopping_  is just, like, secret code for driving downtown and getting drunk in the middle of the day, so.

What, like he's going to say no to  _that_?

 

 

 

 

Steve's had two and a half drinks, which is  _basically_  none at all, when one of their phones vibrates, just once, and Mom glances at it, pushes it toward Steve, says, "You have a voicemail." 

If someone had called, it would've vibrated for a lot longer, though, so.

Steve yawns, "I  _don't_ , though, right?" 

She rolls her eyes. "You  _do_. There must not be service in here." 

Steve can believe that, honestly, because they're in this tiny little Prohibition era themed bar, and he hasn't seen anybody on their phones, not even to take drunk selfies, so it's  _basically_  like being somewhere that's not even in the real world at _all_.

They _have_ to stay, though, because Mom said they'd just come in here for one drink, and then go somewhere else, but then the bartender asked if she and Steve were on a date, like Mom doesn't _obviously_ look like she's Steve's  _actual_  fucking  _mother_ , or something, and, yeah, now they  _have_  to stay, like.

_Just_  because of Mom's ego, which is. 

God, it's  _relatable_ , but it's  _very_  annoying, but it's not, like, bone-chillingly terrifying, or anything.

Because that is the alternative thing that Steve could be experiencing, right now, is bone-chilling terror. 

He _knows_ , because the voicemail on his phone is just Billy Hargrove, sounding like a _fucking_ psycho, hissing, "Are you fucking  _kidding_  me with this shit? It is the  _fourth of fucking July_ , asshole, where the  _fuck_  are you?!" 

_Shit_. 

 

 

 

  

When Steve walks into the apartment, the first thing he hears is Dustin saying, "I think I got a crush on Mrs Wheeler." 

Like that wasn't bad enough, already, Billy responds, "Bro, we  _all_  have a crush on Mrs Wheeler. What, you want me to give you  _tips_ , or something?"  

There's a second where Steve thinks Billy  _is_  going to actually have to do that, give Dustin advice a la that annoying old song _Stacy's Mom_ , but then Dustin snorts, "Uh,  _no_ , are you  _joking_? No _offense_ , but I don't think you're that  _good_  at flirting, 'cause, like,  _every_   _time_ you flirt with Steve, it makes me feel _physically ill_."

" _Hey_ , in the  _first_  place, I fucking  _know_  I've warned you about coming into  _my_  fucking house and talking shit to me, so watch your fucking mouth. And in the  _second_  place, I  _don’t_  flirt with Harrington,  _ever_ —"

"You know you’re talking to  _me_ , right? Steve and me are  _best friends_. Do you  _really_  think I don't know about  _all_  the dumb stuff you do?" 

Once again, Steve's pretty sure Dustin's about to be murdered, so he heads into the kitchen, where Max and Will are trying to fit, like, a  _million_ Bagel Bites onto  _one_ baking tray, which is  _so_  stupid, and  _won't_  work, but Steve doesn't actually _like_ pizza bagels, so it's _not_ something he really cares about.

Dustin's sitting on the kitchen counter, looking at his phone, and Billy is leaning back against the fridge, looking at  _his_  phone, which Steve can  _see_ is open on Tinder, but that's okay.

Most people have weird coping mechanisms for handling stress, right? 

Steve's pretty sure that Billy just likes getting to reject people. 

"Hey, everybody."

Billy's head snaps up, and he scowls, puts his phone away, growls, before anyone else has the chance to say anything at all, " _We_  need to talk."

 

 

 

 

"It's not  _that_  bad," Steve tries, as soon as they're alone in Billy's room. "I mean, it's  _Max_ , who. I mean, I know you  _say_  you don't, but you  _kinda_  like her _—_ "

"They're leaving." 

"Their parents are gonna be  _annoyed_ , Billy _—_ " 

" _I_  am  _already_  annoyed, and I shouldn't  _have_  to fucking tell this to you, alright, but  _I_  am more important than some random old people you  _barely even know_."

"Yeah, I  _know_ , but, come on, you  _said_  they could come over _—_ "

"I did  _not_  anticipate it being  _this_  fucking awful! And they're not even all  _here_ , yet! That one fucking  _crazy_  one _—_ "

"Mike, his name is  _Mike_ , and you  _know_  it _—_ "

"I need these people out of here, okay?!" 

"Billy, you fucking  _promised_  Max _—_ "

" _Max_  has known me since she was  _nine years old_ ," Billy informs Steve, scowling. "If she's  _still_  expecting me to be a good guy, that's on her,  _not_  me, 'cause I have never, literally  _never_ , given her a reason to believe that I'm, whatever,  _trustworthy_   _and reliable_ , okay?" 

Billy  _is_  trustworthy, though, and he  _is_  reliable, and. 

Steve tries, hopefully, "I could trade you something?" 

Billy, who has already taken Steve's virginity, who knows Steve's PIN number, who can inexplicably forge a flawless replica of Steve's signature, and Steve only knows that because one time he was taking too long to fill out their rent check, and Billy was like,  _oh my God, Jesus Christ, just give it to me_ , says, "Okay, I  _know_  I joke about you being dumb, a lot, but you're not  _this_  dumb, right? I am fucking  _furious_ , right now, and  _mostly_  at you, so this is an  _incredibly_  stupid time for you to offer me kinky sex." 

Steve didn't _actually_ have anything in mind, in particular, so he wasn't _really_ thinking about it like that. 

He was mostly just thinking about shutting Billy up before he starts, like,  _screaming_  and gives one of the kids a panic attack, or whatever. 

The doorbell rings, and Billy groans, "Oh, good,  _wonderful_ , there's another one,  _another_  fucking kid, on  _our_  fucking doorstep, that is fucking  _perfect_ , Steven! That is  _exactly_  what I wanted to fucking deal with today!" 

And this is sorta turning into _a lot_ , but.

Steve wants to know, "Did you just call me  _Steven_?" 

" _Oh_ , I'm  _sorry_ , princess, is that not your fucking  _name_?" The doorbell goes off, again, and Billy shouts, "Jesus,  _fuck off_!" 

Steve rolls his eyes, opens Billy's door, goes out into the hallway, sees the kids crowded around the front door. 

"What the hell are you people doing?" 

"We don't know who it  _is_!" 

Steve is _exhausted_. 

He pushes everyone away from the door, opens it, tries, "Hey?" 

"Hi," says this _shockingly_ hot guy Steve's never seen before. "Sorry, I just moved in, I'm Travis." 

"Okay? Hi, sorry, cool, I'm Steve." 

"Hi. Um, I don't want to be, you know,  _that guy_ , but. I think maybe we share a wall? And it just sounded kinda. I don't know. Is everything okay?" 

Steve wants to fucking  _die_. 

"Yeah," and Billy's right here, pressing up behind Steve, lying, "Everything's  _great_." 

 

 

 

 

Travis leaves, Mike and Lucas show up, Steve finds an old anti-anxiety pill and crushes it up to slip into Billy's Gatorade, which  _he_  thinks is pretty smart, but it makes Billy narrow his eyes and spit into the sink after his very first sip, like, "You trying to take  _advantage_  of me, King Steve?" 

Steve sneers, " _Yeah_ , that  _really_  sounds like me." 

"Boys can be scary; you'd be surprised," says Billy, handing Steve his bottle of Gatorade, grabbing a Mountain Dew out of the fridge, instead. "Drink that." 

"I don't  _like_  Gatorade." 

"We  _all_  don't like things, babe," and Billy reaches out, messes up Steve's hair, smiles with all his teeth. He's the  _worst_. Steve's going to break up with him. He's just gonna sublet his room, and move out. He  _is_. "Like,  _I_  don't like people trying to fucking  _poison_ me _—_ "

"It was, like,  _half_  a pill, you would've been  _fine—_ "

"I'm on  _probation_."

Oh.

Right.

Random drug tests.

Yeah.

Yeah, okay, _fine_ , Steve forgot about that. 

"What's it  _like_  being you? Like, being  _that_  fucking stupid, just.  _All_  the time? I mean,  _shit_ , Harrington, aren't you  _tired_?" 

Steve _wants_ to say that Billy is being _really mean_ , and that he can't fucking _talk_ to people like that if he's planning on having actual _sex_ with them, again, like, _ever_ , but he doesn't _say_ that to Billy, because Will leans in the doorway, hesitant and tiny and weird as ever, goes, "Um, we all wanted to walk to 7-11 for Slurpees?"

Billy groans, rubs at his eyes, mutters, "Are we supposed to  _watch_  them, or something?" 

Steve is _supposed_ to watch the kids, like,  _all the time_ , but he usually just lets them do whatever they want, so. 

He shakes his head. 

Billy shrugs, nods, looks back at Will. "Yeah, fine. Tell Max to get me a blue one. And, hey! Stop _looking_ like that."

"Uh," Will goes. "Like  _what_?" 

"Like you're about to fucking  _die_. It's the fourth of July, bro.  _Relax_." 

Steve can't believe  _Billy_ , who has  _no_  fucking chill at all, most days, and definitely not  _today_ , thinks he has the right to tell anybody else to  _relax_ , but. 

Will just smiles, then runs off, so. 

_Whatever_.  

 

 

 

 

"That song is _so_ fucking stupid," Mike sighs. 

"It's 2018 and you're _still_ listening to Tyler, The Creator, so _you_ can shut your fucking mouth," Max says, with this big fake mean smile on her face. "You don't know what you're _talking_ about." 

"I'm _talking about_ how Katy Perry is _barely_ good enough to even be _called_ an artist, so _—_ "

Steve looks at Billy, drinks some more Gatorade, whispers, " _Hey_ , what's your favorite Katy Perry song?" 

"I don't know any." 

Steve _really_ wants to laugh, right now, but Billy would probably _immediately_  try to beat him to death, so. 

" _That_ sounds fake." 

Dustin asks, " _What_ sounds fake?" 

"Billy doesn't like Katy Perry."

" _Really_?" Max goes, tilting around on the couch, turning that same cruel grin on Billy. "Then how come _—_ "

"Shut the _fuck_ up, Maxine." 

Max and Billy stare at each other for the better part of a minute, until Max sighs, rolls her eyes, says, "Whatever, I _don't_ even care." 

Billy smiles, triumphant and slow and possibly entirely fucking _evil_ , just like Max's grin except a _hundred_ times worse, and.

"But if you _don't_ like her, it's _super_ weird that you used to listen to _Teenage Dream_ all the time _—_ "

" _Shut the fuck up_!" 

"And that you know _all_ the words to _California Gurls—_ "

" _Everyone_ knows all the words to _—_ "

"And _—_ "

" _Okay_!" Steve exclaims, because. Fuck, he would _love_ to know more about Billy secretly listening to Katy Perry, like. Fucking _obviously_ , yeah, that would be _amazing_ , but he still doesn't want anyone to die in their apartment, so. " _Hey_! That's _enough_. Do you _want_ to go home, right now?" 

"No," Max mumbles. "God. _Sorry_." 

Everybody's quiet, then, until Lucas clears his throat, sneaks a quick nervous look at Billy, then just _goes_ for it, like, "Okay, I guess this is an unpopular view, but  _California Gurls_ is _still_ a really good song."

Dustin shouts, "Oh my _God_ , dude,  _thank_ you! I thought _nobody_ was gonna say it!"

Will, who Steve always kinda thought only liked weird retro music, like Jonathan does, says, "Snoop Dogg, like, really _made_ that song." 

" _Right_?! I didn't get that the _melt your Popsicle_  part was, like. A _sex_ thing? Until, like," Max sighs, blows some hair out of her face, shrugs. "I don't know, _fifth_ grade?  _So_ embarrassing." 

Lucas goes, "None of our moms would let us even _watch_ that video _—_ "

"Oh my _God_ ," Mike groans. "Right, _yeah_ , and everybody had to come watch it at my house, 'cause my dad just, like, _didn't_ give a shit about _anything—_ "

" _Seriously_ , it was _—_ "

Billy says, to Steve, sounding _very_ intense, "I hate _everything_ about this." 

 

 

 

 

Billy said yes to a sleepover, but he said no to driving anyone home, and he said Steve wasn't allowed to, either, because he didn't want to encourage anybody to try to do this _again_ , and it's a Thursday morning, so everyone's parents have to come to get them before work, around six, seven, eight, until it's just them and Max, who says, "You have a  _lot_  of space here. How are you  _affording_  this?" 

"This is  _Indiana_ , Maxine, I could buy a fucking  _mansion_  on minimum wage, out here." 

Max looks at Steve, quickly, like she's thinking,  _oh my God, he's awful, how are you putting up with this?_

Steve smiles awkwardly, because, like.

_Yeah_.

He  _knows_ , okay?

He doesn't need to get  _judged_  about his taste in men by an actual  _baby_ , though.

"Sounds fake, but okay,  _whatever_. When are you guys gonna have a housewarming party?" 

Steve raises his eyebrows.

Billy wonders, "Why the _hell_ would we want to do dumb shit like _that_?" 

"I don't know? It's what people do on TV." 

"Last time I _checked_ , Maxine, this is _real life_ , not an episode of  _New Girl_." 

"It's  _2018_ , Billy. _No one's_ watching  _New Girl_ , anymore." 

Steve always sorta thought the other Deschanel sister was the hotter one, so he watched  _Bones_ , not  _New Girl_ , so he really has _no_ idea what's going on, here, today, but he knows  _one_  relevant thing, so.

"We would get a  _lot_  of free stuff if we threw a party." 

Billy scowls. 

Steve beams. 

" _What's_  going on?" 

Steve explains, "Your brother fucking  _loves_  getting shit for free." 

"No,  _I_  like working for things," says Billy, like he thinks Steve's somehow gonna just suddenly _forget_ about all the times Billy's just laid back in bed, looking arrogant and lazy and like he thinks he's  _actually_  a fucking king, while Steve gets him off. "Like  _all_  rich people,  _you_  love getting shit for free."

Steve rolls his eyes, smiles at Max, waits. 

Billy bites his lip, sighs, gives in, " _Alright_ , though, tell me more about that. People have to bring  _gifts_ , or what?"

"Yeah." 

Billy glances around their apartment. "I don't know. We would have to clean up, and I  _don't_  want to do that." 

"You just  _barely_  moved in," Max points out. "It's  _not_  that messy." 

"Still sounds like work." 

"Agreed," Steve's like. "We could just ask my mom to buy us some stuff, you know. She's got this  _really_  good decorator." 

Billy says, to Max, like Steve's not sitting _right_ fucking here, " _See_? Rich people are  _fucking_  weird." 

 

 

 

 

They don't have a housewarming party, but Mom comes over after work, one night, to look at the apartment, and Steve _knew_ she was dropping by, but Billy had to work, so Steve didn't tell him about it, he just cleaned up, a little bit, on his own, and.

Mom tells him, flatly, "This is embarrassing." 

"Wow,  _thanks_."

She raises her eyebrows, tilts her head, demands, " _How_  many dishes are in that sink?" 

"Um." All of them. The answer is  _all_  of the dishes, in the apartment, are currently in the sink. There are  _no_  clean dishes. "I...don't know? It's a  _small_  sink, though, so. It just  _looks_  like more dishes than it  _really—_ " 

"You're  _twenty_ , Steven," she sighs, like maybe Steve doesn't actually  _know_  how fucking old he is, like that's fucking  _possible_. "Do you want Diana's number? You remember Diana, she used to clean for us, sometimes, when you were younger." 

"No, I.  _Yeah_ , I  _remember_ , but  _no_ , I can clean up after myself, okay?" 

Mom asks, sounding almost _uncharacteristically_ kind, " _Can_  you?" 

"Billy's been working a lot  _all week_! And, I mean. And he doesn't  _like_  it when  _I_  wash the dishes, 'cause he says  _I_  don't know how to do it right, so then  _he_  just has to do it  _again_ , and it's  _annoying_ , and I don't _like_ it when he's _annoyed_ , so it's just  _better_  to let  _him_  do it  _for_  me,  _okay_?!" 

"We are not on a  _football field_ ; I can  _hear_  you. Don't  _shout_." 

Steve glares down at his shoes, thinks about telling his mom that he never fucking  _played_  football, he played  _basketball_ , which she would  _know_  if she knew, like,  _anything_  about him, before he finally just lies, "I  _wasn't_  shouting."

Mom leans down to check her lipstick in the dark window of the microwave, then stands up straight, again, saying, "I don't know if you're already  _aware_  of this, Steven, but  _Billy_  sounds  _deranged_." 

"Yeah. Yeah, no, I. I  _am_  aware." 

Neither of them says anything else for a few minutes, until Mom admits, "It  _is_  a cute little place, though. Do you get a lot of natural light from that window, over there, in the daytime?" 

"Yep," lies Steve, who keeps the blinds closed, like,  _all_  day,  _every_  day, until the sun goes down. "It's, um.  _Really_  good light. I really like it." 

 

 

 

 

Billy texts,  _yo why does the hallway smell like arrogance & santal 33_

Steve was _almost_ asleep, but he's definitely not  _anymore_ , now that he's had to look at his phone's blindingly bright screen, so he replies,  _idk what that means_

There's a sound outside, like maybe someone just kicked at his door with the toe of their boot, like maybe they're a  _huge_  asshole, like maybe Billy wants to come into Steve's room, so. 

Steve gets out of bed, opens the door, yawns, " _What_?" 

"You got a  _girl_ in there, King Steve?" 

"Jesus, are you  _fucking_  with me?  _No_ , my  _mom_  was here." 

Billy looks like he might _actually_ hit Steve, right now, like.

_That's_ how fucking outraged he looks. 

" _Mrs Harrington_  was in  _my apartment_ , and  _you_  weren't going to  _tell_  me about it?" 

"Why  _would_ I tell you that?!" 

Billy sighs, shakes his head, walks away. 

Steve rolls his eyes, locks his door, turns on his sleep playlist. 

Before the first song is even over, he's got another text, and then another one, and then one more, and it's the _middle of the fucking night_ , so these aren't going to be texts from a  _reasonable_  person, a person who would wait until the morning for a response, so. 

Billy's texts say,  _u still havent paid me back 4 tht sleepover_  and also,  _mb we shld revisit that spanking thing_ and then,  _bc tbh this casual disrespect thing? im nt about it_

Steve's blushing, again, he can  _feel_  it, but _Billy's_ got no way to know that, so. 

_not wanting u 2 fuck my mom is disrespectful??_

_if god didnt want me to fuck yr mom she wldnt be so hot_

_u have literally NVR seen her!!!!!_

_tru. ive seen you tho_  Billy responds, like that means  _anything_ , and Steve rolls his eyes, thinks about just turning off his phone, already, but.

_why would i ever let u hit me for fun??_

_idk_  Billy's like.  _you cld come in here & find out_

It's, like, two in the morning, so. 

_No_.

No, Steve's  _not_  doing that. 

He tosses and turns in bed for three more songs, Daughter's _Still_ , Billie Eilish's _Bored_ , Khalid's  _Therapy_ , then gets out of bed, turns off the music, knocks on Billy's door. 

"It's open!"

Billy's door is  _always_  fucking open, because he's not weird like Steve is.

Steve _knows_ it's fucking open, he was just knocking to be _polite_ , Jesus _Christ_. 

Billy's sitting up in bed, smoking, which is _so_ annoying, because they're going to lose their security deposit, when they move out, if Billy's room reeks of cigarettes, and this is _why_ vaping is a thing, and it's not like Billy  _doesn't_  vape, so that means he's just being a fucking nightmare because he  _can_.

_What_  a fucking asshole. 

Steve's  _still_  standing in Billy's doorway,  _still_  just thinking about how Billy's the fucking  _worst_ , and Billy's grinning at him, now, humming, "What's wrong, baby? You can't sleep?" 

"I hate you  _so_  much." Billy grins even wider. "You're not even fucking  _doing_  anything, in here!" 

"I was waiting for  _you_." 

" _Yeah_ , but I didn't  _say_  I was gonna  _come_! You're not even  _pretending_  to do anything!" 

Billy's smile stops being hungry and bored and expectant, goes gentle and easy and just a  _little_  bit mocking, instead, which. 

Is actually really nice?

Like, yeah, it's  _still_  annoying, obviously, but.

It  _is_  an improvement. 

Steve's really thinking about it, now, like.

_Genuinely_ thinking about it. 

Steve's never had a boyfriend, before this, and he's never had a pet, or anything, either, but he's pretty sure he read, once, about men, or pets, or maybe both, that you're supposed to reward good behavior, so.

Yeah.

_Yeah_ , Steve can, like.

Give Billy a blowjob, and then just go back to bed, and that could be okay, right? 

Billy's been working like  _crazy_ , lately.

He's probably too fucking  _tired_  to be super obnoxious tonight. 

Like, he might not even pull Steve's hair, at  _all_ , for once.

The whole idea is really intriguing, and appealing, and is almost a  _totally_  solid good vibe, so Steve takes a few steps closer to Billy's bed, and. 

And Billy gets cocky, and awful, and obnoxious as  _shit_ , just like  _always_ , goes, "Yeah, that's right, baby, come here. Daddy's gonna take  _real_  good care of you," and. 

Jesus.

_Absolutely_ not.

"Okay,  _wow_ , so." Steve laughs, turns, decides, " _I'm_  going back to bed." 

Billy calls after him, " _Oh_ , come the fuck  _on_ , Harrington! Don't be such a  _bitch_!" 

"Yeah,  _thanks_  for that, Hargrove, 'cause I almost made a  _huge_  mistake, right there, so. Thank you,  _really_ , 'cause I think I would've felt gross about that, for, like, the  _rest of my life_ , probably." 

Steve's still tired and annoyed and  _way_  too wound up to sleep, but. 

Billy probably is, now,  _too_ , and Steve is  _absolutely_  petty enough to take that as a win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _chapter title from_ : national anthem (lana del rey)  
>  _songs referenced throughout the text_ : gasolina (daddy yankee) // glamorous (fergie & ludacris) // plain jane (a$ap ferg) // slob on my knob (three 6 mafia) // wild for the night (a$ap rocky & skrillex) // stacys mom (fountains of wayne) // california gurls (katy perry & snoop dogg) // still (daughter) // bored (billie eilish) // therapy (khalid)


	2. (summer is almost over) baby, everybody thinks i’m crazy

**august**

Max goes, "Hey,  _you_  like Hayley Kiyoko, so. Okay, like. Yeah, so, I mean,  _hypothetically_ , if a girl made me a playlist and she put  _Curious_  on it, like. She’s telling me she's into me, right?"

Steve holds out a hand, palm up, then flips it over, shrugs, because.

"If it was, like.  _Cliffs Edge_? Or  _Girls Like Girls_ , or, fucking, whatever.  _Sleepover_? Then, like,  _yeah_ , that's some  _real_  intense gay shit,  _totally_ , but. I don't know.  _Curious_  is kinda a grey area."

" _Fuck_."

"Aren't you still with Lucas?"

"I  _just said_  it was  _hypothetical_ ," Max hisses. "And even if I  _didn't_ , but I  _did_ , but if I  _didn't_? It's  _still_  none of your business."

Steve shakes his head, lights a smoke, sighs, " _You're_  the one who _—_ "

"You are  _so_  annoying, sometimes."

 _Jesus_.

Honestly, Steve's  _just_  here because it's a Sunday and he had  _nothing_  else to do, and the boys were all playing some weird video game when Steve showed up, so pretty much _everybody_ ignored him, but then Nancy showed up, too, and she and Jonathan went into his room, and Max gave Steve this _really_ pitying look, even though Steve didn't  _need_  pity, and gave him half of a _huge_ brownie that Steve suspects was more weed than chocolate, or sugar, or  _whatever_  the fuck actually goes into food, because it tasted  _pretty_  fucking gross, but, like.

It was  _free_ , so.

That was cool. 

Anyway, he's been feeling pretty good since then, but Max is being _mean_ , now, and Steve  _can_  take it, but he doesn't  _want_  to, so.

He gets off the Byers' porch, goes back into the house to sit down next to Dustin, who's  _still_  playing that dumb game, like it's  _interesting_ , somehow, even though he's _literally_ been doing it  _all day long_. 

Max comes inside, too, like, "Did I fucking  _seem_  like I was done talking to you, Steven?"

"Actually,  _no_ , Maxine, so my advice, and also my answer to that question, is, like.  _Sometimes_ , you gotta just go where you're gonna be  _appreciated_." Steve glances at the TV, but that's sorta a waste of his time, because he _still_ doesn't even know what game it is, so he looks at Dustin, next, to ask, "Yo, what's the score?"

" _What's the_?!  _No_ , okay,  _fuck_ , stop  _talking_  to me," Dustin's like. "Oh my  _God_."

Steve gets out his phone so he can text,  _i h8 every1 thts nt u we shd run awya 2gether is it elegal to get married in vegas if ur boys yet is tht a thing??_

Then he thinks that's probably too gay, or dumb, or clingy, so.

He adds,  _(max mayfield voice ) HYpothetically,,,_

Somewhere in the house, someone closes a door pretty loudly, and then Will's bedroom door is opening, and Jonathan's saying, "Hey, Mike, uh? Nancy's waiting for you," and Mike's scowling, sighing, standing up, and. Jonathan asks Will, "Can I come in and hang out?"

According to Dustin, they  _only_  met up at the Byers' house, as opposed to, like, _anywhere else_ that would _automatically_ be more fun, because Will's feeling some separation anxiety now that Jonathan's leaving for college soon, so.

Yeah, _obviously_ the kid's gonna let him in.

Steve wants to roll his eyes, but he _doesn't_ want to be rude, but.

He's stoned as hell, and can't really be held responsible for anything he does, so.

He rolls his eyes. 

He sorta hopes Jonathan didn't see him do it, but he also does not give a _fuck_ , at  _all_ , so. 

He tunes everything out, Max and Dustin and everybody the fuck else, for a _long_ time, until Dustin pulls on a handful of Steve's hair, tells him, in this almost  _terrifyingly_  conversational tone, "Steve, if you don't answer your fucking phone, I'm _going_ to be forced to kill you."

Steve yawns, "Leave me  _alone_ ," but he pulls out his phone, anyway, and he's expecting to see that he missed a call, but.

No.

He didn't.

He missed a text from Billy, and a _second_ text from Billy, and then, wow,  _another_  fucking text from Billy.

 _ok 1 ur so stupid idk why it continually shocks me but it does 1b it IS legal but im NOT marrying u bc u r TOO dumb_ _2 stop talkng 2 her its so fucking annoying tht u do that_

_1c i hate everyone thats not u tho thats a real & relatable vibe _

_3 how fucked up r you_

Steve suspects he is  _really_ fucked up, but Billy might be mean about it if Steve admits that, which is _pretty_ limiting, so.

He replies,  _idk why_

Almost instantly, Billy hits him back, like,  _could come get you if you want_

Steve could be into that.

He'd really like to see Billy, like, a _lot_.

He doesn't  _need_  to be picked up like he's a little kid, though, like.

Steve can  _drive_.

He can get  _himself_  home.

God.

It _is_ real cute that Billy _asked_ , though, isn't it?

And he might not ask again, like, if Steve says no, this one time, so.

Again.

 _Limiting_.

There's this steady burning stare hitting the back of his neck, out of _nowhere_ , and Steve's got a feeling that it's  _not_ going to stop, so.

He glances around the room until Jonathan meets his eyes, smiles slightly, goes, "Hey, sorry, you got a light? I think these little kleptos keep stealing shit out of my room."

And.

Okay.

Steve's  _over_  Nancy.

He  _is_ , because he's _so_ into Billy that he barely has room in his head for  _himself_ , these days.

He _doesn't_ think about Nancy anymore, that's  _over_ , that's  _fine_ , it  _really_  is, and.

He's _in Jonathan's house_ , so.

He should be _nice_ to the guy, right?

There's literally  _no reason_  for Steve  _not_  to be nice.

Also, like.

Steve _was_ visibly smoking a cigarette, just a few minutes ago, so.

Yeah, no.

There's no way around it.

There's only _one_ way Steve can approach this without seeming like a _total_ asshole.

And Steve _knows_ that, like, he _knows_ there's only one way, _really_ , but he still lies, "Sorry, yeah, uh. No, I gave up smoking, so."

" _Stop_ ," Dustin breathes, sounding half-desperate, but also,  _ridiculously_  fucking amused, so. 

Steve focuses all his energy on smiling innocently at Jonathan, until Jonathan finally replies, "Oh, uh. Okay?"

Steve texts Billy back,  _no_

Steve texts Billy,  _mss u tho ty ur_

Steve texts Billy,  _so cute i wanna kiss u a  lOT_

He looks back at Jonathan, smiles wider, goes, "But,  _hey_ , I'm just, like.  _Real_  sorry I can't help you out, dude."

 

 

 

 

Steve gets home and thinks about going into his room to change his clothes, but Billy's door is wide open, and after all his dumb texts, Steve kinda just wants to get things over with, with Billy, for the night, so.

He leans in the doorway, knocks a hand against the wall, tries, "Uh, hi?"

"Yo." Billy hits pause on what's almost definitely _Clueless_ , glances away from his laptop to look up at Steve, instead, like, "Where you been, King Steve?"

"Uh, Will got  _Black Panther_  on DVD for his birthday, so."

"So,  _what_? You were watching a bunch of deleted comic book scenes all day?"

Well.

_No_ , but.

Only because the kids got too busy playing Call of Duty, or whatever the fuck it was, so.

_God_.

"I mean. Sorta? I. Well,  _basically_ , yeah."

Billy shakes his head, sits up, grabs a box off the floor. "Hey, take this." 

"What is it?" 

"It's for you." 

Steve walks closer, opens the box, raises his eyebrows.

"Um.  _How_  many Reese's Cups is this?" 

"I don't know, like. A hundred." And this whole thing is kinda sweet, but. _Okay_ , it's just, like. Steve doesn't know why the fuck Billy thought it made  _sense_  to buy a hundred Reese's Cups? Like,  _yeah_ , Steve  _likes_  peanut butter cups, but. The grocery store exists for a  _reason_. "I had to sign up for Amazon Prime last week, you know, when my charger broke?"

Steve only  _vaguely_  remembers this, but.

He nods, and Billy continues, "It's free for, like, a month, so I'm trying to actually  _use_  it before I got to cancel it." 

"So, you bought _—_ "

"It was only, like,  _seven dollars_  for all that.  _And_  shipping was free,  _and_  the thing said two days,  _but_  it got here today instead of tomorrow. Like, I'm gonna  _hate_  canceling it, 'cause, I mean. Rich people are  _really_  fucking living."

" _Wow_ ," says Steve, who doesn't have Amazon Prime, and probably never will, because he almost never buys things online, so it seems like a waste of money, and. Jesus, Steve doesn't want to  _say_ so and sound like a dick, or anything, but even though he's  _still_ stoned, he just kinda feels like he's  _never_ going to eat a  _hundred_  Reese's Cups? "Thanks, I guess?" 

Billy gives him a mildly annoyed look before he reaches out, pats at the side of the bed next to him,  _Steve's_  side of Billy's bed, even though they don't ever really  _say_  that it's Steve's side, but.

It totally  _is_  Steve's side of the bed.

Steve pretends like he doesn't get it, just asks, " _What_?"

Billy reminds him, "You want to kiss me. A  _lot_ , right?" 

That's true.

Yeah, Steve  _does_  want that.

He shrugs, gets on Billy's bed, starts working on Billy's belt buckle, and then there's hands all over him, like, more hands than Billy can possibly actually  _have_.

God, who even _is_ Billy?

He's  _so_  fucking wild; it's like he's  _actually_  got superpowers, or something, but, like.

_Only_  sex superpowers.

Billy pulls Steve up on top of him, puts a hand on the back of Steve's neck, sighs, " _What_ , Harrington, you don't fucking _listen_ to me, anymore? I _said_  give me a kiss."

"That's actually  _not_  what you _—_ "

"It's what I fucking  _meant_."

Billy licks his lips, and they're close enough that his tongue  _just_  grazes Steve's mouth, and.

Yeah.

Okay, _yeah_ , maybe they  _should_  kiss, for a little bit, first.

That's cool, too.

It's actually a  _really_  good idea.

Billy's  _so_  fucking smart. 

Billy laughs, then, but Steve doesn't get  _why_ , until he goes, " _Yeah_ , I _am_ , so maybe you should just do what I want you to  _do_ , already."

Steve might be blushing, but he's still pretty stoned, so.

He doesn't care.

He goes, "It's what  _I_  want, remember?"

"Oh,  _yeah_ , King Steve? Is that  _true_? Then why the fuck are you trying to make me  _beg_  you for it?"

Steve rolls his eyes, kisses Billy, quickly, just to shut him up, because he is the _worst_ , and Steve can't  _take_  it, and. 

Steve says, right against Billy's mouth, "I can't fucking  _take_  you." 

Billy flips them over, grins down at Steve, goes, " _That's_  not true." 

 

 

 

Steve's pretty sure Billy just stayed up all night long.

He's in the kitchen, washing dishes, and when he sees Steve, he announces, sounding  _outraged_ , like he's  _paying_  for it, and therefore has a real  _reason_  to be so pissed, "There's nothing  _on_  Amazon Video, you know that? Like, it's just, I don't know. All the shit that Netflix didn't want anymore."  

Steve actually looked this up, just last night, because he couldn't find anything new to watch on Netflix, and wasn't sure if he should put any effort into, like, bullying Billy into giving him his Amazon password, or not.

He sits down on the counter, opens up a pack of Pop-Tarts, offers, " _Psych_  is on there."

"I'm  _not_  watching  _Psych_. Unlike you,  _I_  have a fucking  _brain_ , and I use it, like,  _every_  goddamn day, so I don't really want the whole thing to  _rot_  right out of my  _head_ , okay, so  _no_ , I'm not watching  _Psych_." 

" _Mr Robot_?"

"I'm not watching  _that_  shit,  _either_ , Jesus, like. If I  _wanted_  to watch  _Fight Club_ , I'd just fucking watch  _Fight Club_." 

Steve rolls his eyes. " _Okay_. I think they got  _Entourage_?" 

Billy turns off the sink, braces his arms against the countertop, leans closer to Steve. "I didn't know that. Is that  _true_ , or are you fucking with me?" 

" _Why_  would I do that?" 

"Harrington, I  _don't know_. Sometimes you think you're funny, or whatever."

"Shut _up_ , look, don't you remember how fucking  _hot_  the  _Entourage_  guy was? I'm not gonna  _lie_  about the hot guy from  _Entourage_." 

For about a minute, it looks like Billy's considering that, and then he gives in, "Okay, that  _isn't_  a good argument, but. I  _do_  feel your vibe. He's still pretty hot, I think. I saw this movie he did, like. Fuck. Last year? It was called _Trash Fire_." 

_Nobody_  would  _ever_  call a movie  _Trash Fire_  and actually expect people to go  _see_  it, so.

"Are  _you_ fucking with  _me_?" 

"No, it was, like,  _really_  fucked up, though. Like, okay, the first half was, like. A kind of dark comedy? And then, you don't _really_ see it coming, you know, but. Yeah, then the rest of it was just this.  _Total_  fucking _psycho_ horror story." 

" _Yikes_ ," says Steve, because,  _yeah_ , that's a bad vibe. Movies shouldn't be like that. If shit's about to get, like,  _terrifying_ , there should be some kinda  _warning_ , first. He ducks down to push Billy's hair away from his face, presses a kiss to Billy's forehead, beams, "I gotta get to work."

 

 

 

 

"Hey, it's Steve, right?" 

Steve stops flipping through the mail, turns around in the hallway, says, "Yeah? Sorry, um. You're... _Tyler_?" 

"Nah, man. Travis."

" _Travis_ , yeah, sorry, um. _Shit_ , I'm sorry, it's not  _you_ , man, I just have a bad memory, so." 

Travis smiles, shakes his head, says, "No, hey, don't worry about it, but, uh. I'm finally having a housewarming thing, coming up? It's gonna be pretty chill, you know, just a couple people, but. You and, uh. Billy, right? You guys are welcome to swing by, if you want." 

Steve's pretty sure that's  _never_ going to happen. 

"Yeah, I mean, we work a lot, but. Maybe? Thanks. What day is it gonna be?" 

 

 

 

 

And what's so great about _that_ is, Steve hasn't even finished closing the front door when he hears Billy call out, " _Hey_ , were you just talking to the _drug dealer_?!" 

" _What_?" 

"That new guy next door?" Billy's vaping, lying back on the couch, not taking his eyes off his laptop, explaining, "He's a drug dealer." 

Steve's pretty sure that's _not_ true.

"Billy, you can't just  _say_  shit like _—_ "

"I'm  _saying_  it 'cause I bought weed from him last week." 

"You  _what_?" 

"Well, _honestly_ , I thought _you_ would, but you didn't, and I didn't want him to think we were, like,  _not_  cool." On Billy's laptop, some girl is pulling some other girl's hair, and somebody pushes a table over, and. Billy loses interest, looks up at Steve, adds, "It was real bad, though, so I just gave it to Max. You know, he says  _hella_ , like?  _I_ don't know, like he thinks he fucking lives somewhere where that's still, like, _acceptable_ daily vernacular, so. Yeah. Don't talk to him. He's got a weird vibe."

"Wow," says Steve, who is almost  _totally_  sure he's heard Billy say  _hella_  at least five times before, but _probably_ way more than that. "Okay. Cool. Um, are you hungry?"

" _Always_ hungry."

"Okay. Okay, I'm gonna make mac and cheese."

Billy doesn't come into the kitchen with him, just shouts, "Hey,  _drain_  the fucking pasta this time!" 

" _Shut up_ , asshole, I fucking  _know_  how to do it!" And, yeah,  _fine_ , Steve can't  _see_  him, but he still  _knows_  Billy's making a mean disbelieving _mocking_  sorta face, so he yells, "It was  _one_  fucking time, and I was  _drunk_ , okay?!" 

 

 

 

 

"I  _hate_  this," Billy declares, scowling at Steve. He's wearing some of Steve's sweats, and some  _stupidly_  expensive sneakers that Steve can't believe Billy even  _owns_ , and a tank top, and he looks angry, even though he usually  _loves_  getting to show off and remind everybody that he's a smug asshole who goes to the gym on a regular basis, but he's looked angry  _all day_ , even when he first showed up, when he was wearing about three different shirts that have since been abandoned across the Wheeler's front lawn. " _Why_  the hell am I out here  _wasting_  my day off, fucking helping  _Nancy Wheeler_  pack all her college shit, again?"  

"It's because you  _want_  me to leave town so I won't steal your boyfriend," says Nancy, even though it looks like she's got most of her attention focused on carefully writing  _BOOKS (FICTION) (L-S)_  on a box with a Sharpie. "Hey, can you be careful with that mirror, please? It's just, like.  _Really_  important to me." 

And.

Nancy doesn't know Billy very well.

Steve does, but he still doesn't have enough time to do or say anything before Billy drops the mirror onto the driveway.

When it shatters, Nancy looks up, again, and.

And Nancy, who never shows anyone  _any_  sorta weakness, not fucking  _ever_ , starts to fucking  _cry_. 

 

 

 

 

Billy's quiet on the drive home, and he's quiet when they're walking upstairs, and he's quiet when Steve closes their front door, because.

Well, actually, Steve doesn't really know  _what's_  up with Billy.

Billy  _likes_  confrontations, he fucking  _loves_  confrontations, but they haven't had a lot of them, since they moved in together, and now Steve's got to start this one, which is going to make  _him_  the asshole, later, right?

Like, if Billy gets mad, it'll be like it's  _Steve's_  fault, even though it's  _not_.

"What the  _fuck_  is the matter with you?!" 

Billy doesn't look at Steve, when he sighs, " _Look_ , how was  _I_  supposed to know her fucking  _dyke_  girlfriend _—_ "

" _Hey_ , Barb is  _dead_ , alright? Can you show some  _fucking_  respect?!" 

"Respect for  _who_ , for your fucking ex, or for some dead bitch I never met, because, hey, either way? The answer's  _absolutely_  not,  _no_. Why do I have to  _tell_  you shit like that?! You should just  _know_ I'm  _never_ going to do it!" 

"You're  _such_  an asshole!" 

" _Yeah_!" Billy shouts after him, when he realizes Steve's going into his room. "I  _know_!" 

 

 

 

 

Steve can  _tell_ that Billy just thinks Steve's being dramatic, or something.

Billy's not _really_ going out of his way to be a dick about this, or. 

Not much more than usual, at least.

But Steve's  _still_  annoyed, so.

 

 

 

 

So, he's avoiding Billy, and, _actually_ , he kinda thinks maybe Billy's trying to avoid him, _too_ , because it's  _really_   _easy_  to avoid Billy, and Steve _wasn't_ expecting it to be, but, really, he just has to make sure to lock his door before Billy gets home, every day, and that's about it. 

It works for six days, until he's coming out of the shower on the seventh day, when Billy's not supposed to be home yet, but he  _is_ , and Billy's grabbing him, shoving him against the wall in the hallway, demanding, " _Look_ , who gives a girl a fucking  _mirror_ , anyway?! I mean,  _what_ , you people were both just fucking around with  _actual_  Snow White? Like, you  _get_  how that's  _insane_ , right?" 

"Barb  _died_!"

"Yeah, but  _everybody_  dies! And mirrors  _break_ , okay, and when they  _do_ , people _buy new ones_ , and then they _fucking move on_ , and didn't I fucking  _tell_  Wheeler I'd get her a new mirror?"

"She doesn't  _want_  a new one!"

"Yeah, well,  _she's_  a fucking _—_ "

"Don't  _you_  have anything that's got sentimental value?!" 

Steve watches Billy think about it for a second, and then he watches as Billy lies right to his fucking face, " _No_." 

"Can you fucking get  _off_  me, already?" 

And, fine, _maybe_ it sounds like a question, but Steve  _didn't_  mean it like one. 

It's kinda  _impossible_  to forget that Billy's stronger than Steve is, _especially_ when Billy's in a weird mood, because Billy takes shameless advantage of it,  _every_  fucking time, which would probably be a bad vibe if they were actually  _together_ , but. 

They're not. 

They just live in the same apartment.

They're not fucking  _dating_ , right? 

It's _fine_.

Billy's still pinning Steve against the wall, so Steve says, "Get off,  _seriously_."

And Steve means it, he _really_ fucking does, but there's an almost  _disgustingly_  familiar smile on Billy's face when he asks, "Or  _what_?" 

Steve can't  _believe_  this  _fucking_  asshole.

"I'm  _not_  having sex with you, Billy." 

"You  _sure_?" 

" _Yeah_ , I'm  _fucking_  sure." Billy's not moving, though, yet, so. " _Jesus_ , let  _go_  of me." 

Billy lets go, watches Steve watching him, then takes a step back. "You can't be pissed off for  _forever_ , Harrington." 

 

 

 

 

It's a little bit after midnight when Billy texts  _hw many times are you going to listen 2 that fucking song?_

_as much as i fucking want jfc_

_look i like lana del rey as much as anybody tf else whos got eyes_  Billy replies, finally, after sixteen minutes.  _but if u dont shut that bitch up im going 2 go all social network on yr laptop & then kill u &then me_

Steve changes the song from Lana Del Rey's  _Blue Jeans_  to Lana Del Rey's  _Off To The Races_ , which is arguably the better song, but is  _way_  more annoying, turns the sound on his laptop up as high as it'll go, then puts his headphones back on and gets back to watching  _A.P. Bio_  on the NBC app on his phone. 

Every single episode is just about this guy who hates everybody else, and.

Yeah, that's just  _really_  relatable, right now.  

 

 

 

 

In the morning, Steve  _still_  hasn't slept, and he's run out of dumb sitcom episodes to watch, so he hears it when Billy gets out of bed, takes a shower, leaves.

Steve waits a few more minutes, just to be safe, before he turns the sound down low, switches over to his sleep playlist. 

There's this piano cover version of Kendrick Lamar's  _Swimming Pools_  he's been listening to, lately, that gets him to sleep  _almost_  better than having sex with Billy does, and that's  _really_  saying something, so.

He might not even have to make up with Billy at  _all_.

 

 

 

 

Steve wakes up, and Billy's home, still in his work clothes, prowling around the kitchen, and it sounds like it's supposed to be a fucking  _accusation_ , or something, when he goes, "We have  _no_ fucking food in here, do you  _know_  that?" 

" _Yeah_ ," Steve's like, glaring. "I'm  _avoiding_  your  _store_."

Billy groans out a laugh, shakes his head, says, "You know, if  _Wheeler_ had pissed  _me_  off, you wouldn't care  _this_  fucking much." 

"That's not. I.  _What_?" 

"Like, correct me if I'm fucking  _wrong_  on this, but  _I'm_  the one who's been fucking you, lately, right?  _Me_ , not  _her_ , so I don't know why you _—_ "

"It's not  _like_ that!" 

"Okay, what the fuck is it  _like_ , then?" 

"I. I've known Nancy for a long time, and _—_ "

"And,  _what_ , you don't fucking know _me_?" 

"No, that's not _—_ "

"So,  _what_ , she's a better  _fuck_  than me?" 

" _Jesus_ , Billy _—_ "

"To me, it kind of seemed like nobody'd ever given it to you as good as me, but hey,  _maybe—_ "

"It's not  _fucking_  like that!" 

" _Well_ , what's it like, Harrington? I need you to tell me, 'cause  _I_  don't know! What's the fucking problem?! I  _broke_  something,  _fine_ , but you know what? I break shit  _all the time_."

That doesn't make it _okay_.

Doesn't Billy _know_ that?

Doing something _all the time_ doesn't mean it's _not_ a horrible thing to do.

That's kindergarten level shit. 

Even back when Steve was a _complete_ asshole, _all the time_ , in high school, like.

He still knew he was an asshole. 

He _knew_. 

And Billy might know, or he might not, but.

Billy's saying, "That's something about me that  _you_  need to know, because you piss me off  _all the fucking time_ , so, yeah, _hey_ , you should know, when I'm mad, I  _break_  things, and it's a _bummer_ , I _know_ , but once it's broken, that's it!"

Steve opens his mouth, starts, " _Okay_ , but _—_ "

And Billy just raises his voice, talks right over Steve, snaps, "I can't make fucking  _miracles_   _happen_ , but I  _said_  I'd get her a new _—_ "

"It had _—_ "

"Sentimental  _fucking_  value, I  _know_ , Jesus  _Christ_ , I'm not fucking  _deaf_! What I'm  _saying_  is, there's nothing else I can  _do_! You know that? At this point in time, there is literally  _nothing_  I can do!"

"You could fucking  _apologize_ , Billy!"

Billy shakes his head, finally shuts the fridge, laughs, " _What_ , like. You want me to  _lie_?"

"What."

"I mean, I'm  _not_  sorry." 

" _What_?!"

"It fucking  _sucks_  that you're holding out on me, I mean, that's. It's not  _great_  that you care more about some random bitch who used to suck your dick than you do about  _me_ , so I guess I'm sorry about  _that_ , that I had to find out  _that_ , but no, I'm not fucking  _sorry_  for breaking something that wasn't even yours,  _no_." 

"You're  _such_  a fucking dick!" 

" _Yeah_ ," Billy says, again, in a voice that's gone almost scarily intense. "But that's not  _new_ , and that's what I'm trying to fucking  _say_ to you. I  _embarrassed_  you, or whatever, so I let you have your little tantrum, but it's been, like, afucking _week_ , now, so, I'm calling it, okay? You're done now. You can't keep on acting like you didn't know who the _fuck_ I was, already, like you think I got to be  _different_  now just 'cause I'm fucking you, because I'm  _not_  different, and I'm not  _going_  to be different, and I shouldn't  _have_  to fucking say that kind of shit, 'cause  _I_  wouldn't expect that from  _you_! You think I don't know about all  _your_  dumb shit? I  _do_ , and I don't expect you to change, because that's a  _shitty_  thing to want from somebody! You fucking  _knew_  who I was, and you fucking  _liked_  it, so you can't keep  _treating_  me like you didn't  _know—_ "

And there was a lot of space, between them, before, but Billy's been coming closer and closer to Steve, the last minute or so, and it's.

It's not _scary_.

Steve's not  _scared_ , it's just a lot to handle, and he's  _tired_ , and, Jesus, he doesn't  _need_  Billy yelling at him, he can't fucking  _think_  like this, with somebody  _yelling_  at him, and  _this_  is why relationships fucking suck, and when he's done with this one, he should  _never_  even fucking _think_ about being in a relationship  _ever_   _again_ , because people  _fight_  in relationships, and Steve's fucking  _bad_  at fighting.

Steve goes, "I'm a fucking  _person_ , too, okay?! I don't. I can  _do_  whatever I want! I can treat you  _however I want_!"

Billy laughs, again. 

He's got that look on his face like he wants to hit somebody. 

The only other person here is  _Steve_ , and Billy's never  _actually_  hit him, before. 

They  _almost_  had a fistfight, once, in senior year, pretty much out of nowhere.

Billy was giving Steve a hard time about planting his feet, after school, and he wouldn't back off, and if he'd had another half a minute, even, he probably could've fucking _killed_ Steve right there, but he didn't, because a teacher saw them and broke it up. 

But the only people here, now, are Billy and Steve. 

There's nobody here to break it up, if it gets bad, so.  

So.

"I'm sorry. You're  _right_ , okay? I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." Billy looks confused, a little, and. And then confused, a  _lot_. It comes across his face a little bit too suddenly for it to seem real, but. Steve doesn't know what _else_ it could be. Billy definitely doesn't _look_ angry, anymore, just. Lost, maybe. "What the fuck are you  _doing_ , what's. What's fucking  _happening_ , right now?" 

Steve doesn't want to get beaten to death in his own fucking kitchen by some guy who doesn't even like Steve enough to actually date him.

_That's_ what's happening. 

"I overreacted, so. I'm  _sorry_." Billy still looks like he doesn't buy it. That's  _really_  smart of him, because it's  _total_ bullshit. "I  _don't_  want you to be different. I  _do_  like you."

But, see.

That part's  _not_  bullshit.

And Billy must be able to tell, because he runs a hand through his hair, sighs, mutters, "I'm gonna go buy some fucking food. You want anything?"  

 

 

 

 

Billy comes back after an hour, when Steve's in bed, listening to _Swimming Pools_  on piano on repeat. 

The song is four minutes long, so Steve gives himself four, then eight, then twelve more minutes to himself, before he gets up, brushes his teeth, goes out to sit down next to Billy, who's eating curly fries in front of the TV, looking suspiciously like he's stoned as shit.

"So, um. What are you watching?" 

" _Love and Hip Hop: Miami_."

"Okay? I... _don't_  know what that is."

"It's just hot girls getting in fights 24/7." Billy yawns, puts an arm around Steve's shoulders, points at the screen. "I'm in love with that one, with the hair."

"She's. Um. Really pretty?"

"Yeah, Harrington, I don't love her 'cause she's  _pretty_."

Steve doesn't really  _care_  why Billy's obsessed with some random girl on a probably-scripted bullshit reality show, so he doesn't ask any questions, just turns his head, presses a kiss against Billy's hand.

Billy waits a minute before he goes, "What was  _that_  about?" 

It's  _about_  the four shots of vodka Steve knocked back right after Billy left, mostly. 

Steve shrugs. "I like your hands."

"I know." 

"And I miss you." 

Slowly, like he's not sure Steve's telling him the _truth_ , which isn't fucking  _fair_ , because that fucking  _was_  true, Billy replies, "Yeah, me too."

Steve leans back, tips his head so he can look at Billy, asks, "Wanna kiss me?" 

 

 

 

 

When he wakes up, Steve feels _beyond_ drained, like he didn't get  _any_  fucking sleep, even though he  _knows_  he did.

The bed's still warm next to him, so Billy's probably only been out of Steve's room for, like,  _a minute_ , but he didn't close the door behind him, and he's leaning back in, now, like, "Hey, yo, you want a ride to work? I'm going to the gym." 

He looks good. 

Like, he hasn't taken a shower, and his hair's falling into his eyes, because it's getting  _way_  too long in the front, but Billy keeps saying he doesn't want to get it cut, _ever again_ , after the traumatic experience he went through in the spring, even though he won't actually  _tell_  Steve about that, except for how he literally calls it  _traumatic_ , which probably means he's just being overdramatic for no reason, but.

Whatever.

Billy looks _good_. 

Almost good enough to make Steve forget that he still kinda sorta hates him, but. 

Only  _almost_. 

"You know, you gave me the _ugliest_ hickey I've ever had in my  _life_ , last night?" 

Steve  _barely_  remembers last night.

Well.

He barely remembers the _good_ part of last night, which is fucked up. 

It would be _amazing_ if he could forget Billy shouting at him, or whatever, but. 

No dice. 

Steve yawns, stretches, mutters, " _Why_  do you think I  _care_?" 

Billy stops looking at himself in the mirror, turns around, sighs, "Are you _still_ pissed at me?" 

"No."

"You sound like you are."

"I'm  _not_."

Billy nods, sits down at the end of Steve's bed, says, "Okay, look, I fucking  _apologized—_ "

"Only to  _me—_ "

" _Yeah_ , 'cause, _one more time_ , since you're being  _really_  fucking slow about this,  _you_ are who I fucking care about. I'm  _not_  fucking apologizing to Wheeler, and I  _don't_ want to talk about this shit anymore."

That's not _fair_.

Steve still doesn't want to die, or have a fight, _or_ get yelled at, again, though, so. 

"Okay."

"Okay. So. You want a ride?"

"I got the day off, today."

"No, you don't."

Billy's right.

Steve lies, "Uh, _yeah_ , I _do_ , 'cause my mom made me a dentist appointment, like,  _forever_  ago, and I forgot to cancel it, so..."

Billy rolls his eyes. "Your  _mom_  makes your  _dentist appointments_?" 

" _Why_  would I _ever_ care enough about my teeth to make my  _own_  fucking appointment?" 

"Oh my  _God_ ," Billy stands up, shakes his head, finishes, "I mean. Look, that's  _real_ , you know, me  _too_ , okay, but.  _Jesus_." 

 

 

 

 

"Hi." Clean Bandit's  _Rather Be_  is on the sound system at the store, today, even though it came out, like,  _five years ago_ , and it's  _so_  bad, like. Steve  _knows_  it's a good song, but. Jesus Christ, it is also  _really_  fucking irritating. "I need Reese's Cups."

Billy's smart enough to realize that Steve could  _only_  need Reese's Cups if he ate all of the  _million_  Reese's Cups he already had, so that's probably why he doesn't even stop stocking vitamins, even though he usually stops working when Steve shows up, just says, "You are  _so_  fucking gross."

"Thanks."

"You need a  _doctor_ , or. Shit, I don't know. The  _Lord_ , or something." 

" _Thanks_. Do you want anything, since I'm here?" 

"No." 

Steve waits.

Billy sighs, rolls his eyes, shrugs. "Apples. Red ones." 

Steve waits some more.

Billy looks at him like he's not sure what Steve's fucking waiting  _for_ , so.

"Okay? How  _many_?"

"Like, _five_?"

And it's _such_ a simple response, Steve _knows_ that, but it sure as hell _sounds_ like Billy's trying to say,  _obviously I want five, you're supposed to buy five at a time, everybody knows that_.

But that's crazy, so.

Steve's probably just being too sensitive, or something. 

He says, "Okay, five. Got it. Bye." 

 

 

 

 

And, okay, sure, they fuck a few times, but they don't really _talk_ for the rest of the week, so. 

If they were dating, Steve would think, like.

Maybe it's over now?

But they _weren't_ dating, before, so they're definitely not dating, _now_ , but. 

That doesn't mean it's _over_ , right?

 

 

 

 

There's a big meeting at work on Friday.

Steve fucking  _hates_  meetings. 

Everybody  _knows_  he's got nothing to contribute, so.

He spends the majority of _every_ meeting the exact same way he spent every single math class he ever had after he passed Pre-Algebra, and _that_ means that Steve just wastes an hour of his life by staring at the clock on the wall and biting his nails and praying for death.

Today, he files out of the conference room with everybody else, but Madison catches him before he can leave for lunch, tells him, quietly, "Hey, you got a visitor, by your cubicle. I would've called, but, you know. Big boss is here today." 

And the big boss is Steve's dad.

And Dad's an asshole, so it wouldn't  _matter_  that Steve's never had a visitor before.

No, if Dad knew, he would  _still_  freak out about Steve being unprofessional, just this  _one_  time, even if Madison, and, like, _everybody else_ on Steve's floor backed him up, not that they  _would_ , because nobody here fucking  _likes_  him.

Except for Madison, who was still a temp on Administrative Professionals Day, so nobody bought her anything, even though, like, literally  _every_  other assistant in the  _entire building_  got flowers or a dumb card or a box of chocolates, or something, which made _sense_ , because, like, she  _was_  just a temp, but she was  _also_  covering reception for _the entire floor_ , and she was doing it  _really_  well, so.

Steve felt bad for her, so he used his lunch break to buy her a novelty mug from this little stationery store that he really only went into so he could buy a greeting card, because, like, why the fuck would a  _paper store_  sell  _coffee mugs_ , but they _did_ , so. 

So he bought her a mug and a card and left them on her desk and they're not, like,  _friends_ , now, but Madison  _could've_  pulled Steve out of the meeting in front of Dad, and she  _didn't_ , so. 

Steve should probably buy her another mug, or something.

God.

What do girls even _like_? 

Maybe this is why he fucked it up so bad with Nancy.

Steve winds his way back through the main office, stands by the open front of his cubicle, feels more shocked than he's ever been in his entire  _life_  when he goes, "Hey?" 

"Yo," and Billy is standing up, grabbing his satchel, putting down the picture that Steve keeps on his desk, this Polaroid that Will took at Dustin's last birthday party. Dustin's wearing Steve's sunglasses, Steve's wearing Dustin's dumb hat, they both have rainbow cake frosting  _all_  over their mouths. It's a  _stupid_  picture. Steve  _loves_ it. "Stella wanted my shift, so I got a double tomorrow, instead. You want to get lunch?" 

 

 

 

 

They get lunch, and Billy talks about work for, like, _ten minutes straight_ , which is boring as shit. 

Steve doesn't know  _why_  Billy thinks Steve cares about his job, because Steve doesn't even care about his  _own_  job, which is arguably a  _lot_  more interesting than Billy's job, because, like,  _Steve_  actually has to act like a grown-up at work, _and_ he has set hours, and he  _sometimes_  even has to send  _faxes_ , like there's anybody in the fucking  _world_  who doesn't have an email account. 

But Billy tells him one story about work, another story, and then _another_ one, before he pauses to shove, like,  _half_  of a sandwich into his mouth, so. 

Steve starts, casually, like it's not a big deal, "Hey, you know, the Wheelers always have this party on Labor Day."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, I mean. They invited us, so _—_ "

"You mean they invited  _you_." 

"Well. No, it's. _Listen_ , if you don't want to go, that's _fine_ , but I _—_ "

"When's Labor Day, again?" 

Is he _kidding_?

How does that even _matter_?

They both _know_ Billy's not going to go, no matter what, so.

Steve sighs, "Uh, the third, I think? Um. Monday." 

"And Nancy's gone?" 

"Yeah." 

Billy shrugs. "I'll go." 

"Wait,  _really_?" 

"What, you don't  _want_  me there?" 

" _No_ , I just. You don't. You don't  _have_  to go."

There's a weird look on Billy's face when he says, "Yeah, I fucking  _know_  I don't  _have_  to." 

 

 

 

 

**september**

They've only been at the party for twenty minutes when Billy disappears.

Honestly, though?

Steve isn't feeling too worried about it.

He's probably just flirting with Nancy's mom, or fucking around on his phone, or smoking a cigarette by himself, or. 

Or  _something_.

Billy likes attention sometimes, but Steve's found out, by now, that he's actually a pretty solitary kinda guy, a lot of the time, so. 

It's fine. 

 

 

 

 

It takes Steve five bottles of Angry Orchard rosé cider to realize that there's not really anybody here who's his age, because everybody is away at college, now.

That's fine, too, but it means that if he keeps standing by himself, he's _probably_ going to end up trapped in a conversation about shit he knows nothing about, like mortgage payments, or golf, or dumb Facebook jokes that are actually just recycled Tumblr posts from, like, _2013_ , so. 

He stands on top of a folding chair, looks around until he finds his target, then jumps down and goes over to sit with Dustin, who is staring at a plate of peach cobbler like maybe it's the key to finally figuring out time travel, or _whatever_ the fuck it is that Dustin cares about, these days. 

"What's up, man?"

Dustin shrugs.

Steve tries again, " _Okay_ , well. How come you're not hanging with the geek squad?" 

"I'm  _tired_  today. Those people are  _loud_ , Steve. I can't  _take_  them."

There's something almost  _overwhelmingly_  hilarious about  _Dustin Henderson_  claiming that anybody else is  _too loud_ , but. 

Steve lets it go, nods, yawns, "Yeah, man, I feel you." 

The Wheeler's back door opens, then, and all the kids start spilling out, Will, then Mike, then Lucas, then Max, and Billy comes out after them, closes the door, follows the kids over to where Dustin and Steve are sitting, and  _everyone_  looks like they're in a bad mood, so. 

"Hey, you guys. Everything cool?" 

Mike scowls at him. "Why don't you ask your  _boyfriend_?" 

"My  _what_?!" 

"They're  _roommates_ ," Max informs Mike, sounding like she thinks it's  _wild_  that anybody might  _ever_  believe that.

There's a long moment of silence, until Lucas goes, suddenly, " _Wait_. They're roommates?" 

"Oh my  _God_ , they're  _roommates_ ," Mike replies, and they both burst into laughter, and.

Dustin mutters, "That's  _not_  as funny as they think it is.  _Christ_ , Vine is dead for a  _reason_."

Billy sits down next to Steve, starts picking at the plate of cobbler, tells Dustin, "Yo, if you're  _going_  to talk shit about your friends, you  _might_  want to do it loud enough so they can actually fucking  _hear_  you." 

Dustin rolls his eyes, stands up, spits, "When I  _want_  my whole life to fall apart, I'll  _start_  taking advice from you, but, in the meantime, can you fucking  _leave_   _me alone_?" 

Steve's never been more aware of the fact that Billy _could_ hit somebody and is _just_ holding himself back for Steve's sake, so.

He watches Dustin walk away before he tries, "Um, sorry. I think that's just, like. Puberty." 

"Yeah,  _whatever_ , Harrington, I  _don't_  care." Billy scans the Wheeler's backyard for a couple minutes, looking like he's trying to make a decision, before he turns back to Steve, like, "Hey, come show me where the bathroom is." 

 

 

 

 

Billy goes up the Wheeler's stairs before Steve can stop him, heads into Nancy's room before Steve can stop him, kisses Steve when he opens his mouth to say that they shouldn't fucking  _be_  in here, and.

Billy stops kissing him, sits down on Nancy's bed, aims a wicked grin at Steve.

"You ever try roleplay?"

" _What_?"

"I'm gonna be you." Billy slips out of his jacket, pulls off both of his necklaces, repeats, "I'm  _you_ , and it's real late, and I'm sneaking into your room."

Steve wants to fucking  _die_.

"Wait. You. No _way_ , Billy, _Jesus—_ "

" _Shhh_. Somebody's gonna _hear_ us."

" _Stop_."

"You're gonna be a good girl for me, _aren't_ you, baby?" 

"Billy, I'm  _serious_ , we can't _—_ "

Billy presses, "So, did the princess lose it in here, King Steve, or was it at your place?" 

" _No_ , Billy."

"What, like,  _no_ , you didn't pop her cherry?" 

" _No_ , like, we're  _not_  fucking in here." 

Billy winks, grins, asks, " _Really_? Feels like we _are—_ " 

"Come on, this is, like. An invasion of  _privacy_ , and _—_ "

" _How_? She doesn't fucking  _live_  here anymore! Look, what's the  _worst_  thing that can happen?" 

Steve could get caught getting laid in his ex-girlfriend's bed, while his ex-girlfriend's parents are throwing a party right outside, a party that, like, half of the  _entire town_  has been invited to, so. 

_Yeah_ , that's pretty much the worst thing ever, and it not only  _could_  happen, but is, actually, pretty  _likely_  to happen, and. 

Billy's shirt is off, his belt is off, his shoes are off, and he's saying, " _Look_ , pretty boy, if you don't come over here, I'm gonna have to go over there and  _get_  you. Do you  _want_  me to do that?" 

When Billy gets all hot and hungry and predatory, it  _really_  turns Steve on. 

Like,  _every_  single time, without fail. 

It's  _embarrassing_ , but it's  _true_ , and.

Billy leans forward a little bit, stops smiling, drawls deep and low and  _threatening_ , "Keep this up, and Daddy's gonna have to _spank_ you, sweetheart." 

" _Jesus_ , Billy, I'm  _not_  doing that."

"Oh, yeah? What part?" 

"Both! The.  _That_! I don't fucking  _like_  it, okay?! I keep fucking  _telling_  you I don't like it, and you don't fucking  _listen_  to me _—_ " 

Billy rolls his eyes. "Jesus,  _relax_!  _Goddamn_ , it's not a  _thing_ , okay, it's just a  _joke_!" 

"I don't  _like_  it." 

"Fuck,  _fine_ , I fucking  _get_  it,  _trust_ me!" 

Steve lies, "I  _don't_  trust you!" 

He doesn't know what the word is for the look that's on Billy's face, now, but he doesn't get that much time to try to figure it out, because Billy bites his lip, looks down at the floor for a little bit, then looks up, but still away from Steve, at an old picture that's on Nancy's wall, then sighs, picks up his shirt, starts, " _Look_ , Harrington, I'm fucking  _bored_. I just thought maybe we could have some  _fun_  today, but if you're not fucking _interested—_ "

And.

_Fuck_.

Steve feels  _bad_. 

Like,  _really_  bad, because he  _knows_  Billy didn't want to come to the party today, but he  _did_  come, because he knew _Steve_ wanted him to, so. 

Steve says, "No, wait, I'm _sorry_ , okay? We. Yeah, let's. _Okay_ , let's fuck." 

"Harrington, if you don't fucking  _want_   _to—_ "

"I  _do_  want to! Man, I _always_ fucking want to, come _on_."

Billy narrows his eyes, bites his lip again, and.

Steve pushes, " _Please_ , babe? I  _really_  wanna." 

"Really?" 

" _Yeah_ ," Steve smiles, gets on the bed, spreads his legs a little bit. "So, whatever, like.  _God_ , okay, I'm. A virgin? Right? It's my first time?" 

And Billy ducks his head, looks back up to lick his lips, grin, confirm, "That's right, baby. That's why I'm going to be  _real_  gentle with you, okay? Gonna make you see  _stars_." 

The first time they fucked, Steve was on top, because Billy said  _either way, King Steve, I don't care_ , and it kinda seemed like he  _did_  care, but Billy  _said_  they could do it like that, so they did, and it was  _good_ , but.

Steve wasn't scared, or anything, even though he had thought he would be. 

The first time he ever fucked a _girl_ , he was scared, but he was a lot younger, then, and everything was different, so.  

Whatever, he wasn't scared, fucking Billy, and, then, not even when.

Well.

Okay, the first time _Billy_ fucked _Steve_ , Steve felt like he was gonna fucking  _die_. 

Billy took  _forever_  fingering him first, and, yeah, fine, Billy didn't  _laugh_ , but he wasn't exactly reassuring,  _either_ , when Steve cried a little bit, and when it started feeling good,  _really_  fucking good, like, so good that Steve was _begging_ for more, Billy grinned, called Steve a whore, and just fucked him harder, like he wanted, but.

But then, Billy was weirdly quiet, _all_ weekend, after, until he finally went,  _look, don't freak out on me, Harrington, but was that seriously your first time? I mean, Jesus, you took it like a pro._

So.

Maybe Billy really  _is_  just bored, but  _maybe_  this is about Nancy, but  _maybe_  Billy feels like he got cheated out of the deflowering a virgin experience, or something, and.

It's not like Billy asks for a lot, and this really isn't even  _that_  weird, so.

Steve lets Billy settle down on top of him, winds his arms around Billy's neck, lies, "I'm  _scared_." 

And Billy's face just  _lights_  up, so.

Yeah.

_Jesus_.

There it is.

"Don't be scared, baby," and Billy kisses him, carefully,  _sweetly_ , like somebody who feels bad because they  _know_  they're about to fuck something up for forever, but they just  _can't_  hold back. "I got you."

 

 

 

 

Steve's  _not_  seeing stars, not really, but he hasn't felt this good since.

Fuck.

July?

Maybe June?

Fucking Billy is  _always_  good, it just hasn't been  _as_  good as it used to be, lately, but. 

Today, it feels like Billy's putting  _everything_  he's got into it, and Steve can't think, can't talk, can't focus on anything that's not Billy, and he still  _knows_  that they shouldn't be doing this here, but it feels  _so_  fucking good, and Billy gets a hand in his hair, kisses his neck, purrs against Steve's ear, "Can't hear you, baby. You gonna make some noise for me?" 

"Somebody's going to _catch_ us," Steve groans when Billy tugs on his hair, pulls his head up and off the pillows, and it's fucking  _embarrassing_ , looking down at this pastel floral patterned pillow that's all wet and gross, because Steve's been biting and gasping and  _drooling_  all over it, and.

"It's just you and me, princess," Billy promises, voice pitched down low and soothing and easy. " _Everything's_ okay, baby, you're  _just_  fine _—_ "

And the door's locked, Steve  _knows_ , because  _he's_  the one who fucking locked it, but it sure sounds like the door's about to open  _anyway_ , and Billy's off the bed in a fucking  _flash_ , pulls out so quick that it _really_ fucking hurts, and Steve scrambles off the bed, too, starts tugging his jeans on right when the door opens, and.

Mrs Wheeler looks even more shocked than she did the first time she caught Steve in her house at 5AM, when he was sneaking out of Nancy's room back in junior year, and Ms Byers looks unsurprised, but a little disappointed, which is, fine,  _understandable_ , because this  _is_  sorta the grossest dumbest weirdest thing Steve's ever been caught doing, _ever_ , and.

It's not like it's  _her_  fucking house, but Mrs Sinclair has always seemed like someone with a good head on her shoulders, so it kinda  _does_  make sense that she's the one who looks at Billy, looks at Steve, raises her eyebrows when she demands, "And what  _exactly_  is going on in here?"

Steve looks at Mrs Sinclair, at Ms Byers, at Mrs Wheeler, then over at Billy, who's working on buttoning up his shirt, like Billy thinks anyone believes that he's somebody who cares about  _modesty_ , like there's _anyone_ in Hawkins who doesn't already fucking  _know_  that Billy's  _constantly_  walking around topless. 

_God_ , Steve fucking  _hates_  him.

If Steve  _wanted_  to be fucking a guy who wouldn't ever offer him any help, or support, or encouragement on fucking  _anything_ , he would just  _actually_  fuck his own fucking  _dad_ , which is  _gross_ , so.

He  _definitely_  has to break up with Billy, after this. 

He tries, "Uh, I think there's only one _real_ answer to that question, and it's..."

Something that Steve doesn't know.

In  _any_  given scenario where there is one answer, it's  _always_  gonna be something Steve doesn't know, right?

_God_.

Okay, well.

At least this probably isn't, like,  _illegal_ , right?

It's  _embarrassing_ , but ultimately, it's  _all_  gonna be just fine.

Everyone's gonna get out of this with _minimal_ traumatic scarring. 

Steve's about to open his mouth again, to just man up and apologize about a million times, but. 

Billy's looking down as he buckles his belt, but he glances up, shoots everyone this _annoyingly_ charming grin when he starts, "Listen, ladies, it's  _hard_ out here for a pimp, and _—_ " 

Out in the hallway, there's a chorus of groans, and then.

_Yeah_ , it's definitely Max who goes, " _Ugh_ , I'm gonna  _kill myself_ , what the  _fuck_." 

Steve mumbles, " _Same_." 

It's unclear who Billy's talking to when he spits, " _Jesus_ , shut the  _fuck up_ ," but he sounds  _real_  serious, so.

Steve shuts the fuck up. 

They walk out of Nancy's room, and.

Will whispers, "And they were  _roommates_!"

"Oh my  _God_ ," gasps a girl with short hair, who's got lots of dark eye-makeup on, and is wearing what looks like it's probably a  _super_  heavy leather jacket, like nobody told her it was going to be, like, _80 degrees today_. Steve has no idea who the fuck she is, but he also doesn't really  _care_ , he just hopes she's not going to do it, he hopes, he hopes, he  _hopes_ , and. "They're  _roommates_." 

Jesus.

Steve wants to fucking  _die_. 

 

 

 

 

Travis' front door is closed, but Steve can  _clearly_  hear  _Trap Queen_  blaring from his apartment, and, like, it's a fucking  _great_  song, but  _God_ , what  _year_  does Travis think it is? 

Maybe Billy was really onto something about that guy. 

He hears a sharp whistle, then, so Steve looks up, sees that Billy's inside, holding their door open, looking exhausted, so Steve goes in, closes the door, decides to put away the three huge Tupperware containers of leftovers Mrs Wheeler pushed at him before they left. 

They're probably  _never_  going to eat them, because it's just potato salad, which is gross, and some weird flavored hummus, which is basically pointless, and these weird red velvet cupcakes that have a fucking  _mountain_  of frosting on the top, and then frosting on the  _inside_ , too, like anybody ever really  _wants_  frosting on the inside of a cupcake.

Billy, who  _loves_  red velvet cake, took a bite of one, at the party, and then spat it out into the grass, making this disgusted upset  _betrayed_  face, so. 

Yeah, they're  _never_  going to eat any of this stuff, but it was still really nice of Mrs Wheeler, just, like.

Considering what happened earlier.

Steve might have to write her a Thank You note.

Or, _whatever_ , like.

An apology note. 

Maybe both. 

Billy follows him into the kitchen, leans against the counter, spends a few minutes watching as Steve rearranges the million bottles of juice they've got so that the containers will fit in the fridge.

"We didn't bring anything, you know that? Like,  _everybody_  brought something except us."

Steve is  _literally_  looking straight at a fucking  _surplus_  of food from that party, so.

"Yeah, but it's not like there  _wasn't_  food _—_ "

"That's not what _—_ "

"Or  _booze—_ "

"No,  _look_ ," Billy says, and he sounds _really_ worked up. "That's  _not_  the fucking  _point_. I didn't  _know_  it was that kind of thing, but if I  _did_ , we would've brought something, but I didn't, so  _now_  we seem like  _assholes_ , or like we're  _really_  fucking poor, which is actually  _worse_ , 'cause they  _know_  we're not, so _—_ " 

Steve doesn't really want to interrupt, because, like,  _God_ , Billy seems like he cares a  _lot_  about this, but. "It doesn't  _matter_. Nobody cared, okay? It's  _fine_." 

It's not really like him, but Billy doesn't say anything, doesn't _do_ anything, and Steve feels weirdly tense, just standing around _waiting_ for it.

He doesn't know what _it_ is, exactly, but it's probably just going to be a mean and mostly unfunny joke about Steve being dumb, again, and that's fine, right?

It's  _fine_ , because Billy is  _really_  upset, and,  _okay_ , it's not like anybody  _told_  Steve to bring anything, but he's gone to the Wheeler's parties before, so,  _yeah_ , maybe he should've  _known_  people were going to bring stuff, so. 

He waits, and waits, and  _waits_ , and.

Billy runs a hand through his hair, sighs, groans, " _Whatever_ , look, hey, I played nice with those people  _all_  fucking day, so." 

Steve agrees, "Yeah?" 

Billy raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

Steve rolls his eyes. "What, you want to fuck around?  _Again_?" 

" _Goddamn_ , Harrington, what kind of fucking moron  _are_  you?  _Obviously_ , that's what I fucking want,  _yes_."

 

 

 

 

The whole point of the carpool system is that Steve  _shouldn't_  have to do shit like this when it's not his  _turn_ , but Max texts asking for a ride from the Sinclair's when Steve really has nothing better to do, and he _does_ have to bring back Mrs Wheeler's Tupperware, so he's going to have to drive over there, _anyway_. 

He's not  _thrilled_  about Max and Lucas taking  _forever_ to get ready to go to Will's house, but it's  _still_  not like Steve has anywhere _else_ to be, so.

He kills about ten minutes just eating some pie, sugar cream, which is the _best_ _kind_  of pie, watching Mrs Sinclair get stuff ready for dinner, before he gives in and asks, "Okay, ignore me if this is real dumb, but do you ever feel like your husband doesn't listen to you?" 

Mrs Sinclair laughs, " _No_ , baby. Why?" 

"Uh. I guess I just think maybe my guy doesn't pay attention to me, but. I don't know what to do?" 

"Have you tried lingerie?" 

Steve _can't_  tell if that's supposed to be a joke.

"...no?" 

"Good. Don't." Steve feels a little bit like he wants to laugh, but also a  _lot_  like he wants to die. Mrs Sinclair catches his eye, smiles, adds, "Some people go  _straight_  to that kinda thing, but it's not what you should do. You don't want him thinking you'll reward bad behavior."

Steve feels that this is  _definitely_  good advice, but he also feels that, like?

He sorta rewards  _all_  of Billy's behavior, good and bad, at this point, so. 

"Yeah, that's smart. Thanks."

And there's no warning, there's not even _one sign_ that they're not alone,  _nothing_ , before Steve hears Max say, "I don't know if anybody  _cares_ , but this is now the  _grossest day_  of my  _whole life_."

That  _has_  to be a lie.

" _Really_? What about when you caught me and Billy messing around in his old room?" 

"Well, what the fuck were you  _thinking_ , doing it in there?!" Max demands, sounding furious, _again_ , even though it's been  _months_ , now. "Are you  _dumb_?! My  _stepdad_  could've walked in!" 

"He was _out of town_! That was, like, the  _entire reason_  we were even  _there_!" 

"It was still  _dumb_ , Steven," Max sneers, and Lucas is here, too, now, so. "Good  _God_ , you're gonna make us  _late_ , come _on_." 

Max is probably the  _rudest_ person Steve knows. 

Except, she and Lucas are halfway out the front door when Max suddenly stops, runs back inside, shoots a _big_ smile at Mrs Sinclair. "Thanks again for letting me come over, Mrs Sinclair. And thanks for the recipe! That pie was, like,  _so_  amazing, I can't  _wait_  to try it out."

"Oh, you're welcome, baby. You know you can come by anytime!" 

This kid is _unbelievable_.

Steve smiles at Mrs Sinclair, waves, waits until he's outside to cough, " _Suck-up_." 

Max says, breezily, "Bitch, don't hate the _player_ , hate the _game_."

Steve  _knows_  he could just do it later, but he doesn't want to forget about something  _this_  important, so.

Before he starts the car, he texts Billy,  _congrats!! max is officially yr clone!_

 

 

 

 

Steve is curled up on the oversized armchair in the living room, trying to sleep, when Billy texts,  _the entourage theme song makes me want 2 die_

Steve hasn't slept, at _all_ , in almost three days. 

He replies with a sad faced emoji, the rain cloud emoji, then,  _go cry some more uf uckign baby_

He hears a snort of a laugh come from Billy's room, rolls his eyes, turns his phone off.

_Entourage_  episodes last for about thirty minutes, so it's probably a half hour later when Billy leans over the back of the armchair, demanding to know, " _Why_ don't you care about  _Entourage_  as much as me?" 

Steve feels  _way_  more awake now that there's a light on, now that he's being engaged in conversation, and he was feeling pretty fucking awake  _before_ , so.

He's fucking  _outraged_ , now. 

He just wants to fucking  _sleep_. 

"Look,  _Mark Wahlberg_  doesn't even care about  _Entourage_  as much as you, and it is  _literally_  about his  _real fucking life_." 

"Marky Mark can't be  _trusted_ ," Billy bites out, immediately, sounding like he's been thinking about this at  _length_ , which. Jesus, of  _course_  he has. "He  _keeps_  making piece of shit movies with Will Ferrell; the guy is  _clearly_  messed-up. But it's not like he  _wrote_  the show, he's just a  _producer_ , which is a  _fake job_ , so.  _Entourage_  is fucking  _art_."

Steve is too fucking  _tired_  for this. 

"Yeah. Okay,  _yeah_ , fine, it's  _art_ , just like  _Teenage Dream_  is a  _good album—_ "

"I don't like the whole fucking  _album_ , I like the  _song_ , and it  _is_  good, so shut your fucking mouth." 

Steve doesn't even remember any of the  _words_  to  _Teenage Dream_. 

He hasn't heard it in, like,  _six years_ , at  _least_.

He turns around to sit on his knees, rests his arms over the back of his chair, announces, " _Listen_ , man, I am  _trying_  to fucking  _sleep_." 

And, _immediately_ , like that's  _weird_ , Billy goes, "Wait, really?  _Why_?" 

"Uh, 'cause it's the  _middle of the fucking night_?" 

"Yeah, but you're not in your room."

" _Yeah_ , Billy," Steve sighs. "Because I _can't sleep_." 

"I thought you could  _only_  sleep in your room." 

"Yeah,  _usually_."

Billy nods, puts his hands in the pockets of his sweats, shrugs, "Want me to go look for monsters in your closet?" 

Steve smiles his most angelic smile, goes, "You know _what_ , my man? When I kill you,  _nobody's_  gonna get mad at me, like. The cops will come here, and I'll tell them what happened, and they'll just be like,  _oh, shit, really? He was that awful and annoying? Okay, yeah, that's cool, then, Steve. No problem_." 

Billy rolls his eyes, shakes his head, goes, "Alright, babe. You know where I am, if you change your mind." 

 

 

 

 

In the morning, when he wakes up his desktop at work, his first email is from Dad, who just wants to know if there's  _some reason you're not answering your phone, Steven_ , so.

Yeah, _shit_ , Steve _forgot_ his phone was off, but he turns it back on, and he has two voicemails, five missed calls from his mother, one from his dad, and a text, from Billy, from right after he went back to his room, last night, that just reads,  _cant believe im dating actual amy dunne but ok_

 

 

 

 

And it's  _dumb_ , God, it's  _so_  fucking dumb, and embarrassing, and pathetic, but.

Steve smiles  _all_  fucking day. 

Like, he doesn't know who Amy Dunne even  _is_ , but, like.

That's basically irrelevant?

Billy's  _dating_  him, so. 

Steve has a boyfriend. 

Billy is Steve's  _boyfriend_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [_swimming pools_ on piano.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCjNlVW9TEc)  
>  _chapter title from_ : gangsta boy (lana del rey)  
>  _songs referenced throughout the text_ : curious (hayley kiyoko) // blue jeans (lana del rey) // off to the races (lana del rey) // swimming pools (kendrick lamar) // rather be (clean bandit & jess glynne) // its hard out here for a pimp (three 6 mafia) // trap queen (fetty wap) // superhero (janes addiction) // teenage dream (katy perry)


	3. (we don't fight fair) baby, seasons change, but people don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **please note** : a trifecta of dubiously consensual sex, undernegotiated kink, and billy hargroves canonical issues of misplaced respect and responsibility may start to be triggering in a section that starts ' _Steve has another drink,_ ' and ends ' _This is never happening again._ ' if you want to skip over it, but it is then referenced on through the end of the chapter so. please be safe, and do let me know if you feel that i should tag for anything else.

**october**

Max declares, pointing at the TV, "I would _die_ for her."

Steve doesn't know who the _fuck_ Max is talking about.

Steve has no idea what's going on in _general_ , because he just got home, and he didn't think Billy would be here yet, but he _must_ be, because Max is on the couch, watching something that looks like it _might_ be _Jersey Shore_ , but Steve is pretty sure _Jersey Shore_ isn't a thing anymore, so. 

"Did I just walk back in time, or what?" 

And, _fine_ , Steve  _used_  to watch  _Jersey Shore_ , but that was, like,  _a hundred years ago_ , and Steve _barely even_ remembers shit that's happened _this week_ , so. 

He sighs, looks at Max, who's still watching the show, presses, "Okay, _which_ one?" 

"JWoww? Jenni. She's  _so_  fucking hot, Steve, like, she could _kill_ me."

"You _already_ said that," Billy's like, walking out of the kitchen _just_ wearing jeans, like it's _not_ 65 degrees today, and glaring at the TV like it's responsible for _every_ problem he's _ever_ had.

" _Yeah_ , jackass, and it's _still_ fucking _true_." Max turns back to Steve, adds, "She's had, like, _three_ kids, or something, and she's still  _that_  hot. Isn't that _wild_? Like, that's the  _dream_." 

Steve nods. "Yeah, like. Megan Fox is like that, too."

"Oh my God,  _yeah_. Goddamn, Megan Fox could  _literally_  kick me in the face." 

Billy is eyeing Max curiously, which is _never_ a good sign, and. 

"Aren't you still fucking around with Sinclair?" 

" _What_?! Why the _hell_ are you _—_ " 

"You're up in here sounding like a  _real_  goddamn lesbian, Maxine,  _that's_  why, and if I had  _known_  you were gonna be _gay_ , I  _wouldn't_  have given you so much shit for hanging around so many boys, so  _that's_  annoying, just straight off the bat, for _me—_ "

"Oh,  _yeah_ ," Max sneers. " _Right_ , Billy, 'cause  _you_  get to talk about knowing if people are _gay_ , or not." 

"I'm  _not_  gay." 

"Yeah, okay, does your  _boyfriend_  know that?"

" _Yes_ , dumbass." 

Max tips her head to one side, blinks, reaches out to pause the television, where it looks like some of the  _Jersey Shore_  guys are right in the middle of Gym Tan Laundry, which is. 

Oh, _God_.

Steve can't believe he actually just  _remembered_  the phrase Gym Tan Laundry.

He hasn't seen this fucking show in  _years_. 

Max wonders, "Wait, that's _cool_ with you?" 

Steve shrugs. "Why not?" 

" _Okay_ , I mean. This whole thing sounds _pretty_ fake, but I also _don't_ really care, so. Hey, can you drive me to Mike's, 'cause Billy said he would, but _now_ he's saying no, and _—_ " 

" _No_ , I said no the  _entire time_ , and you just thought I'd do it  _anyway_ , and I  _don't_  know why _—_ "

"Because you  _said—_ "

"I  _definitely_  didn't _—_ "

" _Billy_ , why the _fuck_ would I make that up?!" 

"Since when is it _my_ fucking job to be able to explain all the dumb shit that  _you_ do, Maxine?" 

"I'll drive you," Steve interrupts, before anybody can commit a murder, or whatever. "Can you get a ride back from somebody else?" 

 

 

 

 

Steve takes his time coming back home, thinking Billy's going to be at the gym, or something, because if Billy told Max he wouldn't take her to play D&D, it's probably just because he had something better to do, and. 

Billy is on the couch, eating his gross high protein peanut butter straight out of the jar, watching _Jersey Shore_ like it's the best thing he's ever seen. 

Just because Steve's not used to seeing Billy like this doesn't mean he doesn't know _exactly_ what he's dealing with, so.

"Man, are you on _drugs_?" 

Billy shakes his head.

Steve raises an eyebrow. 

Billy confesses, "It's _just_ a couple Xanax." 

"A couple? Like, a couple  _milligrams_ , or a couple  _bars_?"

Billy eats another spoonful, licks his lips, demands, "Can you let me _live_ , baby? Like, _fuck_ , why you _coming_ for me?" 

"Yeah, _no_ , I'm _not_ ," Steve rolls his eyes. "Get high if you _wanna_ get high, oh my _God_ , just. What happened to _—_ "

"Carlos is out of town for the long weekend."

"It's a long weekend?" 

"It's _Columbus Day_ on _Monday_ ; how do you not _know_ that? _Shit_ , don't you have a _calendar_?"

Steve barely knows who Columbus even _was_. 

He thinks maybe Columbus _raped_ somebody, one time?

He doesn't know why _that_ warrants a _holiday_ , but. 

A day off is a day off.  

"Why _would_ I have a calendar?"

Billy sighs. "I'll get you a calendar." 

"That's _really_ nice, but I _won't_  ever use it," Steve tries, as gently as he can, because his phone has the date on it, and that's _really_ all Steve needs, just like it's probably really all that _anybody_ needs, but.

Sometimes, Billy is _really_ old-fashioned.

Like, the guy owns a _wristwatch_ , even though _nobody_ wears watches anymore, except for, like, old people, and hipsters, and rappers, probably, but only the _super_ famous ones. 

_Anyway_.

"Who's Carlos?" 

Billy looks like he would be _outraged_ if he wasn't so stoned. "Who's _Carlos_? You don't know Carlos? _Carlos_?!"

"Can you _stop_ saying _Carlos_ like it's gonna make me know who the _fuck_ you're talking about?!"

"I can't _believe_ you don't know who _Carlos_ is, but,  _okay—_ "

"Why _would_ I know who Carlos is?!"

"Because, _King Steve_ , he _does my fucking probation_!" 

Steve doesn't see how the hell that's the kinda thing _he's_ supposed to know about, though, so.

"...okay?" 

"Yeah, so. I'm good, for, like, a week." 

"And they don't just. Like. Give your file to somebody else, or something?" 

"I don't know how many repeat offenders you think are  _around_  here," Billy says. "But I'm pretty sure it's mostly just me, and maybe, like. This guy who used to live on my street, who definitely hits his kids, but they are some, like. _Grown_ ass kids, so I don't know what the  _fuck_  they think they're still  _doing_  there, you know what I mean?" 

Steve _just_ moved out of _his_ parents' house, and so did Billy, who was probably  _still_ getting in fights with his dad, _all_ the fucking time, but. 

"Yeah." 

"So. You see Nancy?" 

Steve laughs, "Um, _what_?"

"When you took Max. Did you see your girl?" 

"She's not my. _Jesus_ , Billy, she went to  _college_!" 

"And what, they don't do  _weekends_ at college, pretty boy?" 

"Um. I'm sure they do? But I don't. No, I. She's not home, I don't think, I don't know."

"I don't know," Billy repeats, flatly, and. _Yeah_ , there's no sharp bite of mockery in Billy's voice, but. Steve's pretty sure Billy  _meant_  for there to be. "Okay. _Interesting_." 

Steve wants to argue that it's  _not_  interesting, that _nothing's_ going on, that Billy's just _paranoid_ , and that if he took several fucking _bars_ of Xanax and _still_ feels paranoid, Xanax probably _isn't_ a good vibe for him, so he shouldn't _ever_  take it again.

He _wants_ to say all of that, but Billy stops acting like he cares about  _Jersey Shore_ , focuses on Steve, instead, like, "You want to come sit down with me?" 

Steve shrugs.

"I got some more Xanax?" 

Yeah, and that's _sweet_ , or whatever, but.

Getting high with Billy is clearly _not_ gonna be a good time, so.

"Oh, _yo_ , and I got you Halloween Reese's at work. They're, like. They look like _ghosts_. You're gonna _love_ it; it's  _just_ as dumb as you." 

_Just as dumb as you_. 

Jesus.

Steve _really_ found himself a _great_ guy.

 

 

 

 

The ghosts are these over-sized white chocolate peanut butter cups that are only _vaguely_ shaped like cartoon ghosts. 

Even with Billy's discount, they were probably a complete waste of money.

Steve is in  _love_ with them. 

"These are the best things I've ever owned in my _whole life_. Like, they're _real_ fucking cute. This is  _so_  great." 

" _Yeah_ ," Billy's like, watching Steve viciously bite the head off of another ghost. "Whatever."  

" _You're_ fucking cute."

" _Whatever_." 

Steve beams.

Billy rolls his eyes, looks almost _annoyed_ about it when he smiles back, goes, "How you doing over there, King Steve?" 

Steve chews, swallows, shrugs, "Um, I'm good?"

"Yeah?" Steve nods. "Good, so, then. You gonna let me hit it, tonight, or what?" Steve rolls his eyes, too, so Billy's like, " _Hey_ , I fucking  _saw_ that." 

" _Yeah_ , man, you were _supposed_ to see that." 

"Am I _supposed_ to get some, 'cause I _feel_ like that's what I'm out here _trying to do_ , so _—_ "

"Oh my _God_ ," Steve sighs. "Fine, _whatever_ , just don't _talk_  to me anymore."

"You _really_  gonna pretend like your slutty ass doesn't _love_ how I talk? What, baby, you don't think that's going to be _embarrassing_ for you, later? Bouncing on my dick, like, _Billy, Billy, my man, tell me what you want to do to me—_ "

"Wouldn't I just _want_ you to actually  _do_ it? _Tell me what you wanna do_ ," Steve mocks, incredulously. " _Christ_ , Hargrove, what kinda crazy porno do you think you even _live_ _in_?" 

And, _immediately_ , Billy informs him, grinning real wide, " _Barely Legal Cockhungry Twinks 2_."

Steve feels like he's in _actual shock_ when he repeats, "Oh my _God_."

Billy protests, "No, _don't_. Look, _no_ , I can. _No_ , okay, you're getting the _wrong_ _vibe_."

Steve is almost _definitely_ just getting the vibe that Billy is, like, practically  _handing_ to him, so.

" _Yeah_ , uh, if you _say_ so _—_ "

"Stop.  _Look._ See, _I'm_ the rational, like, _grown-up_ roommate, like, the one who you think is straight at the beginning, and then there's _you_ , and you're always all up on me, talking about how much you like my body, like. You're all, _oh, God, Billy, you're so strong, I wish I, like, had the discipline to go to the gym, but I don't_ , and I'm like, _yeah, well, I could give you a workout, if you want_ , and _—_ " 

There is a _lot_ going on here.

Steve almost doesn't even _care_ about most of it, though, so.

" _Sorry_ , you said, um. Yeah, in your, like, _delusional_ vintage-themed Jane Fonda exercise video fantasy, uh.  _I_ seduce _you_?" 

Billy makes a face like he thinks he's got a _lot_ to say about that description, but as far as _Steve_ can tell, it's _totally_ _accurate_ , so he _refuses_ to take it back, and.

Billy gives in, "I mean, _fine_ , that _is_ , like. _Loosely_ , yeah, that's the vibe." 

"And, um, you. You said people. _Hypothetically_ , this is a _movie_ , and people _watch_ it, and. When they watch it, they...think you're _straight_?" 

"That's right."

"Uh, I don't _know_ , man. I don't think I'd _watch_ that; that sounds fake as _shit_." Billy stands up, hits Steve with a pillow, looks  _incredibly_ annoyed, like he _doesn't_ have strong prescription drugs literally _sedating_ him, so. Steve tries his best to sound soothing when he adds, "Nah, _hey_ , it is _adorable_ how you think people think you're straight! Oh,  _fuck_ , do you remember in high school when you had that _earring_?! Like, _one_ earring, like you thought you were _Rob Lowe_ , remember that?" 

Billy narrows his eyes, but he lets Steve pull him back down onto the couch next to him, mutters, "You _didn't_ see that movie."

" _Uh_ , I _did_ , 'cause I see _all_ movies that got hot guys in them? Like, that's _all_ I care about, in modern media." 

" _St Elmo's Fire_ came out in _1985_ , you _fucking_ dumbass."

"Oh, _babe_ , why do you _know_ that?! That's so _embarrassing_! Hey, remember those jeans you had in senior year? Like, _so_ _tight_ , and, like. _Acid washed_? Where the hell did you even _get_ those?"

" _Harrington_ , I _don't know_." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. 

Billy sighs heavily, bites his lip, admits, "Some thrift store, like. I mean, _look_ , I don't fucking  _remember—_ " 

"And where are they now?" 

"Max fucking _stole_ them from me, so, I don't _know_." 

Without thinking, Steve's like, " _God_ , I'm so  _proud_." 

"Oh, _yeah_ , jackass? Proud of _who_?"

Uh, _Max_ , obviously.

"You, _obviously_ ," Steve lies, beaming. "You _didn't_ kill Max! Good work, babe. Ten out of ten." 

"Okay, _why_ are you fucking with me like this?" 

" _Um_ , 'cause you're stoned as _shit_ , and it's cute how you can't defend yourself?" 

"That's called _sadism_ , King Steve. Why would that _ever_ be _cute_?" 

"Don't know," and Billy's looking kinda intense again, so. Steve should just try to get him to relax, so he can ride out his high like a normal person, and then _maybe_ they can talk about sex, if that's, like, what Billy _really_ wants to do. Steve still thinks actually _having_ sex is gonna be better than just _talking_ about it, but whatever. Billy's  _freaky_ , sometimes, but it's okay, because Steve still likes him a _lot_. "Maybe 'cause, um. Like, because of how you're so fucking _strong_?"

" _Okay—_ "

"And, _hey_ , is that from, like. I mean, you go to the _gym_ , right? Do you. Do you _do_ that? Just, like. I think I heard a _rumor_ , one time, that you do that, _so—_ " 

"I _get_  how you think you're funny, but I am gonna  _kill—_ " 

"And, I don't _know_ , man, I guess I just wish I had your kinda _discipline—_ " 

Billy _loses_ it, wrestles Steve down on the couch, promises, "I'm gonna _show_ you some goddamn  _discipline_ , Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Harrington, I swear to _God_." 

 

 

 

 

Steve's got the bitter taste of Xanax kicking around his mouth, because Billy was so fucked-up already that Steve just chewed his pills so he could catch up faster, but he forgot how fucking _gross_  that was gonna be until it was too late. 

But it doesn't _matter_ , because Billy is still halfway on top of Steve on the couch, kissing him, soft and lazy and _unbelievably_  hot, which is sorta weird, because Billy normally acts like he thinks fucking is a  _competition_ , like if Steve comes _first_ or _fast_ or really _hard_ , he's got to make sure it's even _better_ for Billy, after that.

And that's annoying, but it _is_ good sex, so Steve doesn't really have a lot of complaints, usually, but this is nice, _too_ , like.

He's _kinda_ thinking they might not even have sex, tonight?

They might just _kiss_ , like they're _sixteen_ , or something. 

It's an almost _shockingly_ good vibe.

He can't believe he almost missed out on it.

Billy's phone rings, and he glances at the screen, rejects the call, kisses Steve some more, but after it rings two more times, Billy groans, picks it up, snarls, "Yeah, _what_? Yeah, _Jesus_ , look, I  _know_  I'm just, like, a jumped-up millennial, or whatever, but Caller ID has _actually_ been a thing for _basically_ my entire life." 

It's _not_ that funny, but Steve's high as shit, so he laughs until Billy continues, " _No_ , whatever, it's _fine_ ; what can I  _do_  for you, Susan?" 

And Billy says, slowly, "No, I  _don't_  know where she is." 

And Billy's tightening the grip he's still got on Steve's hair, shifting his phone down between his ear and his shoulder, biting out his words like he's _really_ pissed off, "Look, don't overreact. Hey,  _don't_  fucking yell at me, Susan. What about the Byers', or. Okay. _Okay_ ," and Billy's yanking at Steve's hair, but he lets go when Steve stands up, and then he's grabbing his keys, like, " _No_ , hey, no,  _don't_  call him. _Or_ the cops. Yeah, no, just. _Okay_. I'll. Yeah. Give me thirty minutes."

 

 

 

 

Steve took Max to the Wheeler's.

He _did_ , and he _knows_ he fucking did, because it _just_ fucking happened. 

Every time Steve tries to _say_ that, Billy just scowls and turns the volume up on the annoying and hopefully-ironic metal music he's been listening to, a little bit, lately, and. 

Steve's still feeling pretty stoned, but _Billy_ obviously isn't, so. 

Fine. 

They don't have to talk.

Billy parks a few houses down from the Wheeler's place, and Steve pulls out his phone to check his email, because he's sorta thinking he can just wait in the car.

He doesn't know what the hell is going on, but if it's a family thing, it's _probably_ none of his business.

But then Billy walks straight past the Wheeler's place, and he turns onto the Sinclair's driveway, instead.

The driveway is empty, and _that_ means that Lucas' parents aren't home, but Steve can _see_ Lucas' bike out front, so.

_Shit_.

 

 

 

 

There's a music video playing on Lucas' desktop.

The video is for a song Steve's never heard before, but some girl with pink hair is holding a microphone, jumping around a dimly lit set, like _guys my age don't know how to touch me, they don't know how to love me_ , and Lucas is sitting on his bed, shaking, _really_ fucking _shaking_ , as he tugs a T-shirt over his head, and Max and Billy are standing in the middle of the room, and Billy's got a grip on one of Max's arms that looks like it's probably kinda painful for _both_ of them, but it's not like Billy didn't already  _know_  about Max and Lucas, because they've been together, on and off, for, like, _two years_ , so Steve doesn't get why Billy is freaking out. 

Did he _really_ think they never messed around? 

_Steve_ messed around with girls when _he_ was fifteen. 

Billy probably did, too. 

_How_ is this a big deal?

Max has been talking, in that quick quiet way that she talks, sometimes, when Billy's around, but whatever she just finished saying is making Billy _laugh_ , slow and breathless and like he can't fucking _believe_ she had the _nerve_ to do it, like, "You tell your mom _I'm_ taking you someplace, then you don't pick up your fucking _phone_ , like that's not the whole reason you _have_ a fucking phone, so she _calls there looking for you_ , and you're _not_ _there_ , 'cause you're acting like a fucking _whore_ next door, and,  _what_? You think I'm  _not_ getting fucked over for that shit? I'm _getting_ fucked, up the _ass_ , without _any_ goddamn _lube_ , over here, all because of _you_ being a _fucking—_ " 

"But I  _did_  go to—"

"Do you know how fucking _selfish_ you are, Maxine?! Like, you  _know_ , right? You don't fucking need me to _tell_ you, 'cause you _already know_?" 

"But you  _didn't even drive me_ , Billy!  _Steve_  did!" 

" _Yeah_ , and that's fucking  _worse_!" And Billy laughs again as he repeats, "That is  _worse_ , 'cause, I mean, hey, did you tell  _him_  you were coming over here?" 

" _No_ , Billy, 'cause I  _didn't know_!" 

"But you  _did_  know, Maxine _—_ "

" _Look_ , I  _said_  I'm sorry, but it _already happened_ , so there's nothing I _—_ "

"You're  _not_  fucking _sorry_ , you dumb little _bitch_ , or you wouldn't have fucking  _done it in the first place_!" 

" _You're the one_ who's always saying we're _not even fucking related_!" 

"Because we're  _not_!"

And, usually, when Billy starts getting even _kinda_ scary, he's quiet, but he's being so _loud_ , right now, and the Sinclairs live in a nice neighborhood, not nice like _Steve's_ old neighborhood was, but it's _still_ pretty nice, so.

Somebody is calling the cops, or maybe they already did, so it's _okay_ , nothing's gonna _happen_ , but Billy's on _probation_ , and he _clearly_  just broke into the Sinclair's house, so they _have_ to leave right now, so he doesn't get fucking _arrested_ , so.

Steve needs to tell Billy that it's time to go.

He knows that.

He _knows_ it, but.

He can't force it out of his mouth. 

And Billy is quiet, again, when he tells Max, "We are  _not_  related. You are  _not_  my sister. You are not  _my fucking responsibility_. You keep  _acting_  like you are, and I've been  _letting_  you, but I'm  _not_ , anymore. I am  _not_  your brother, and I'm not your  _fucking_  friend, _either_ , so  _don't_  come by my place,  _don't_  blow up my phone, don't ask  _my_  fucking boyfriend for  _favors_  every fucking day. And don't,  _definitely_  fucking  _don't_ , tell your  _fucking_  mother that  _I'm_  looking after you when I'm fucking  _not_ , 'cause I swear to  _God_ , Maxine, if I get locked up, 'cause of you,  _ever_? I am  _going_  to get out, eventually, due to charm and overcrowding and white _fucking_ privilege, and when I  _do_ , I am going to come  _find_  you, and  _fucking_  kill you.  _And_  your fucking boyfriend, or _girlfriend_ , or  _whoever_  the fuck you're fucking around with at that _exact point in time_."

Even by Billy's typical standards of getting rowdy and hard to handle, like. 

This is a fucking _lot_ to handle, and now that Steve's thinking about it like that, now that he's getting real nervous, he's looking around a _lot_ more, and.

Lucas' iPhone is on top of his desk, so.

It's behind Billy.

Max's phone is probably in her bag, and Steve remembers seeing that when he was running up the stairs, so _her_ phone's not in here, either.

Steve thought someone would call the cops, but maybe if the neighbors aren't home, or if they're watching TV real loud, or something, like.

Well, maybe no one else is going to do anything, and that means _Steve_ has to do something.

Steve's phone is in his pocket, but he _can't_ call the cops on his own fucking _boyfriend_ , can he?

It's not like Billy's _hurting_ Max.

He's probably pissing her off, and scaring her, _fine_ , absolutely, because he's scaring _Steve_ , and Steve's practically not even _here_ , like, _that's_ how much attention Billy's paying him, so.

He _shouldn't_ be scared, but he _is_ , so Max is probably scared as shit.

But, _still_. 

Billy's _not_ really _hurting_ her, _right_? 

This is just family shit.

Maybe it just seems like a lot to Steve because he doesn't ever have any of his own family shit to worry about, and it's _not_ really Steve's business, and Billy would _never_ fucking forgive him, and they might put him back in _jail_ , and. 

Max breathes, " _Fuck_   _you_ , Billy." 

"No, fuck  _you_ ," Billy hisses. "Get your _fucking_ clothes on."

 

 

 

 

Some old depressing song by The Fray is on the radio.

In the backseat of Billy's car, Max looks like she wants to cry, but also kinda like she's not going to until she gets away from Billy, and Steve isn't that high anymore, but he's starting to feel sick, like.

Nauseous, a little.

It's still family shit, of course, but.

Steve could've done something.

Maybe he could _still_ do something.

It takes him a few more minutes to start, "Billy, they're just _kids_ , and _—_ " 

"So,  _what_?" 

" _So_ , it's not that big of a deal, right? I mean _—_ "

"Harrington, this is  _none_  of your business, and it's  _actually_  none of mine, _either_ , so. Let it go." Billy glances into his rearview mirror, says, "A little advice, Maxine, from somebody who fucking  _knows_  Neil Hargrove? You better delete  _all_  the gay shit you got on that phone."

 

 

 

 

Billy doesn't even _park_ outside of his old place, just gets out to walk Max up to the house, and when the door opens, Steve can see Billy's dad is standing _right there_ , but if he  _says_ anything, Billy probably doesn't catch it, because he's already storming back to the car before Max is even all the way inside of the house, so.

So Billy drives them most of the way home, then makes a sharp sudden turn into the Sonic Drive-In lot, parks, leans back in his seat and looks at Steve with his eyes half-closed.

"You _know_ I like you, right?" Steve's not sure if that's, like, a _real question_ , but he nods, and Billy nods back, runs a hand through his hair, knocks his head down against the steering wheel. "I _really_ like you, but I would _still_ sell your pretty ass to the Devil for some chili cheese fries, though."

_God_.

"But would you feel _bad_ about it?"

" _Yeah_ ," Billy assures him, _way_ too fast, so it's _definitely_ bullshit, and. "Fine, _no_ , but I _would_ go to confession about it, after."

Steve rolls his eyes. "My man, I literally _can't even imagine_ a world where I _ever_ care about when the hell you go to _church_." 

Steve glances over at the Sonic, where there's only, like, _two_ cars in line, but there's a _bunch_ of people standing around the outside of the windows, like they _really think_ Snapchatting a vaguely retro dining experience is more important than just getting a milkshake and some onion rings and getting home before _Celebrity Family Feud_ starts. 

He _doesn't_ want to go over there, but Steve looks back at Billy, who still looks murderous and drained and like he thinks chili cheese fries are going to save his actual _life_ , and. 

Relationships are _about_ give and take, right?

Like, Steve's heard a _lot_ of people say that, so.

It's probably true. 

 

 

 

 

He's feeling a _lot_ less charitable when he gets back in the car, though, so.

"Hey, you _get_ that the  _point_ of a drive-in is _—_ "

"Listen, _asshole_ , unless you _want_ to walk home, you better stop trying to _mansplain drive-thrus_  to me. I just needed to _think_ , okay? How the _fuck_ am I supposed to think with you and all your goddamn _hairspray_ in my car?" 

And Steve can tell  _that's_ not a real question, but.

"Okay. What were you thinking about?" 

Like he didn't say this _exact_ same shit twenty minutes ago, Billy goes, "I don't want you driving Max around, anymore."

Well.

_Actually_.

He _didn't_ , right?

Billy told _Max_ not to _ask_ Steve to drive her anywhere, but.

That's not the same, because Max is still just a little kid, but _Steve_ is older than _Billy_  is, and even if he _wasn't_ , Billy isn't _Steve's_  brother, or whatever, like.

Billy can't tell _him_ what to do. 

"I'm being _serious_. That shit she pulled today? Like, _oh, Billy said no, so you gotta do it_ , like. You have to say _no_ , 'cause I don't fucking owe that bitch _anything_ , but if you keep on acting like you think I fucking _do_ , it's _really_ going to piss me off." 

Steve drives _all_ the kids around _all_ the time.

He can't just _not_ drive Max around, and _keep_ doing it for everybody else, but.

Billy _cares_ about this, and Billy doesn't care about a _lot_ , so. 

"Okay?" 

Billy steals Steve's cup of cherry limeade, drinks, drives. 

There's something by Ed Sheeran playing on the radio, and Steve doesn't remember what it's called, but he remembers listening to this song, one time, a couple of years ago, right after Barb died, and.

Fuck, it's just giving him a _scarily_ bad vibe. 

 

 

 

 

They stop in the lobby to get the mail before going upstairs, even though they don't ever really get any interesting mail.

Like, today, all they got was a misdelivered copy of _Harper's Bazaar_ , a glossy sheet of Jack In The Box coupons, and a flyer for some church that Billy threw away without even really looking at it, so.

Steve's pretty sure mail is becoming obsolete. 

The elevator is taking forever to show up, and they should probably just take the stairs instead, but Steve doesn't really feel like doing that.

It's getting _weird_ , though, just standing next to Billy in _total silence_ , so Steve tries, "Okay, but didn't you, like.  _Snap_ Max's _skateboard_ , once?" 

And it's _so_ slow that it almost sounds _dangerous_ when Billy agrees, " _Once_ , like, a  _million_  fucking _years_ ago, and she  _fucking_  deserved it." 

"Yeah, okay, but. I mean, you mean, like.  _Two_  years ago,  _right_?" 

"Who fucking _cares_?"

"I mean. Just 'cause, like. My man, that's _how_ people owe other people stuff, like. If you _broke—_ "

Billy slams a hand against the elevator button again, like, "What the _fuck_?! How much does a skateboard even fucking  _cost_ , like? Fifty, sixty dollars? If she's not over that shit by _now—_ "

"Billy, I'm _just—_ "

"I mean, where the fuck was that thing fucking _taking_ her, Middle _goddamn_ Earth?! Like, it was a fucking _magic_ _skateboard_?! Jesus, Mary, and _Joseph—_ "

" _Okay—_ "

"How the fuck do you even _know_ about shit like that?!" 

Steve shrugs. "I know _everything_."

"You know  _fuck all_ , Harrington, oh my  _God_." The elevator doors _finally_ slide open, and Billy decides, "I am _done_ talking about this." 

Steve hugs the Sonic bag to his chest, shrugs, goes, "Sure, man. Whatever you want." 

 

 

 

 

Billy doesn't mention Max for awhile, so.

Steve doesn't, either.

He hasn't heard from her.

Her parents probably _did_ take her phone away.

When he was in high school, Steve's parents never took away _his_ phone, but he still _knows_ that's a thing parents do, so.

It's _probably_ okay, but.

They're just _not_ talking about Max. 

 

 

 

 

They're _not_ talking about Max, not until the middle of the week, when Steve wakes up because his phone won't stop vibrating.

He yawns, "You locked out? I thought you were home."

Billy says, sounding like he's maybe a little choked-up, "You  _can't_  defend Max when I'm pissed at her." 

"...what?" 

"You _got_ to take my side." 

"There's, um. There's no _sides_ , Billy."

"There's _my_  fucking side, and there's _hers_. And you  _have_  to be on mine,  _all_   _the time_." 

And they haven't been _talking_ about it, so Steve hasn't had the chance to say it, so he rushes to explain, " _Babe_ , I was _kidding_ about the skateboard, okay? It was a _joke_."

"Oh, yeah? It _wasn't_ very funny." 

"Okay? I'm. Okay? I'm sorry." 

" _Okay_ ," Billy responds, and the call ends, and Steve's _already_ calling Billy back when he hears a knock on his door, and. "Hi, Harrington." 

"Hi," Steve replies, steps back to let Billy into his room, doesn't call him out for being weird enough to make a phone call when he was in the hallway and could've just knocked, in the _first_ place, because it's late and he's tired and he doesn't know how much he really cares about Billy's loose grasp on late night phone etiquette, _anyway_. "Um. You _okay_?" 

"I just canceled Amazon Prime." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "And, you're. _Mourning_ , 'cause you _love_ Amazon Prime?" 

"Yeah, I. _Look_ , okay, so, there's this guy," and Billy pulls off his shirt, gets into Steve's bed, on _Steve's_ _side_ , like that's _not_ annoying, and. "On _Entourage_. And his name's _Billy_ , and. He's _crazy_? And it's like. Like,  _everybody_ fucking _hates_ him."

Oh, _Jesus_.

"Listen, baby _—_ "

"So, he's in season one, at the _end_ , though, but, like. I kept on waiting for them to _like_ him? Like, on that fucking show, they like _everybody_ , by the end, _everybody's_ friends, but. Not _him_." 

" _Billy—_ " 

"It's _not_ a big deal; I'm just _drunk_ , okay?"

Billy doesn't _sound_ very drunk, but maybe that's why he looks so wrecked? 

Yeah. 

_Maybe_. 

"Okay." 

"But there's _eight seasons_ ," Billy mumbles, when Steve turns off the light, sets his phone to Do Not Disturb, gets back in bed. " _Eight_ goddamn _years_ , and they fucking _hate_ him, still. And even when he's, like. Helping out, they just. They act like he's a fucking _psycho_ , 'cause they _hate him_ , and it's not _fair_." 

"It's _just_ TV, babe. It's _bullshit_ , okay?" And Billy's all curled up on his side, so it's easy for Steve to spoon up behind him as he finishes, "Guys called Billy in real life? They're basically  _universally_  cool? I'm talking, like, _everybody_ likes those guys. " 

Billy coughs out a really wet sorta laugh, goes, "Yeah?" 

" _Yeah_ , so. It's okay. _Everything's_ gonna be okay."

Steve kisses Billy's neck, bites lightly at his earlobe, gets Billy swearing, " _Bitch_ , get away from my  _ears_ ; they're fucking _sensitive_." 

Billy is _so_ cute.

He _really_ is, but. 

_God_ , sometimes it's like Steve's the _first_ _guy_ Billy's ever fucking _met_ , or something. 

" _Oh_ , you got _sensitive ears_ , Hargrove?" Steve bites down again, just a _little_ bit harder, like, "I'm so _sorry_ , I didn't _realize_ you were so _sensitive_. You gonna forgive me? I mean, 'cause, like I _said_ , my man, I, uh. I _really_  just didn't _know—_ "

Steve can _tell_ Billy's doing that thing, that _I feel weird so I'm gonna threaten you_ thing, but he doesn't care, because it's gonna be okay, and Steve _knows_ it, because he can _hear_  the smile in Billy's voice when he groans, " _Jesus_ , pretty boy, you better _watch_ your fucking _back_."

 

 

 

 

Steve doesn't have any clean shirts, so he steals one out of Billy's room, and he's already running late for work, but he decides to stop and ask if it's okay to borrow the shirt before he leaves, because he knows Billy can get possessive about his stuff.

And Billy's in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror and brushing his teeth and looking hungover as all shit, so Steve presses up behind him, kisses his shoulder, asks, "How you feeling, babe?" 

Billy narrows his eyes at Steve in the mirror, shrugs Steve off of him, spits into the sink. " _Don't_ do that shit, again." 

Wait, _what_?

"Uh, what do you mean?" 

"I mean, _King Steve_ , we worked better when we had clearly defined boundaries, so. You wanna get on my dick? _Great_ , I'm your man. If you want some pretty little _bitch_ you can _cuddle_ and _take care of_ , maybe it's about time you start begging Wheeler for some more of that pussy, 'cause _—_ "

Steve's never heard anybody say _cuddle_ like they thought it was a fucking _swearword_ , so. 

_That's_ pretty wild, just all on its own.

Honestly,  _everything_ that just came out of Billy's mouth is too much for Steve, this early in the morning, but if Billy _didn't_ want to cuddle, he just _shouldn't_ have got into bed with Steve at three AM, _crying_  about some dumbass TV show from, like, _ten years ago_ , so. 

Steve sneers, because he's _annoyed_ , and because he wants Billy to be _just_ as annoyed as he is, and because it's fucking _true_ , "Man, I don't know what _your_ life's been like, but _nobody_  ever makes _me_ beg for sex." 

 

 

 

 

Dustin FaceTimes Steve at work, around noon, which is a little weird, but Steve's supposed to take a break right about now, anyway, so.

He clocks out, goes out into the courtyard, calls Dustin back.

When Dustin picks up, he's already halfway through a sentence, like it's _not_ important that Steve might not know what the fuck he's talking about.

"But anyway, _you_ know what I'm saying, so, like. _Okay_ , so, remember when you told me you were gay?" 

" _No_ ," Steve's like, because.

Yeah, no, not  _really_?

That doesn't sound like something Steve would _ever_ say, because he's probably _not_ gay.

Like, when Billy's _not_ being a total dick, yeah, _sure_ , Steve likes Billy, except Billy Hargrove is _not_ _exactly_ representative of _all_ men.

Or, well.

Okay, toxic masculinity and near-constant overcompensation and unnecessarily violent behavior aside, like.

Yeah, no, all men _aren't_ Billy Hargrove, so.

"Are you sure it _really_ happened, or are you making it up?"

" _Steve_! Why the _hell_ would I  _lie_ about something _that_   _stupid_?! Do I  _seem_  like somebody who has the _time_ to tell you bullshit lies today, or do I  _seem_  like somebody with a  _real fucking life_?" 

Steve muses, "You know,  _sometimes_ , when you get angry, you sound _just_ like Billy."

Dustin's already wide eyes get even bigger. "Shut up! Take that _back_!" 

" _Sorry_ , but I can't take back the _truth_ , man." 

" _Steve_."

"... _Dustin_?" 

Dustin makes an annoyed face, goes, "Okay, _fuck_ , never mind." 

"No, like. What's up? You okay?"

" _Yeah_ , I'm  _okay_ , Steve, I just. Ugh, God, _never mind_ , I gotta go. Have a good day."

"My day is  _basically over_."

" _Yeah_ , Steve," Dustin sighs. "But you could  _still_  have a good  _afternoon_. Do you  _really_. I mean! I don't! Shit, _look_ , I don't have _time_." 

Steve raises his eyebrows, puts away his phone, lights a cigarette. 

Steve _likes_ that kid, and everything, but. 

_Jesus_ , a lot of the time?

Dustin is like a fucking _hurricane_. 

Steve can't keep _up_.

 

 

 

 

It was _nice_ , talking to Dustin, though, because.

Steve doesn't really have anybody else to talk to, right now?

He and Billy are barely talking.

Steve gets the occasional passive-aggressive text, but they're not _fighting_ , again, they're just.

Not talking. 

It feels like being back at home, at his parents' house, except Steve's not the confused bored annoyed kid, this time.

Steve is an actual _adult_ who's avoiding _another_ fucking adult, for _basically_ no reason, and it feels _really_ fucking dumb, but. 

He _keeps_ doing it. 

 

 

 

 

Except for when Billy comes home from the gym, one afternoon, drags Steve into his lap so they can kiss for a few minutes, doesn't say anything, doesn't try to heat things up, just kisses Steve for a minute, two, five, _seven_ , until Steve's feeling  _really_  into it, and he's also feeling kinda stupid, actually, for avoiding Billy, because,  _God_ , this is  _so_  good, sometimes, it can be so fucking  _good_ , and.

And that's when Billy pushes Steve back onto the couch, stands up, starts to get ready for work. 

Steve rolls his eyes about twenty times, until Billy catches him and goes, "Your eyes are going to  _stick_  that way, sweetheart." 

"Don't patronize me."

"Do you even fucking know what  _patronize_  means?"

" _Stop it_ ," Steve snaps, squinting down at the Wells Fargo app that's open on his phone. He's got  _way_  more money in his available balance than he should, and he knows Billy sorta hates talking to him, generally, but  _especially_  when he's already mad about something, and fucking  _really_  especially if it's about money. He  _knows_ , but. "Hey, did you pay the rent this month?"

"No, I'm out here just  _not_  paying rent, 'cause I  _want_ to get evicted, or some shit."

" _Okay_ , but _—_ "

" _Yes_ , I paid our fucking  _rent_ , Harrington. You  _saw_ me write the check, remember? I was like,  _goddamn, I hate writing checks, what a fucking antiquated system_ , and you were all like,  _hey, come fuck me_ , and I was like,  _yeah, I fucking want to, what do you think I'm—_ "

" _Okay_!" Steve exclaims. "Jesus Christ,  _fine_!" 

 

 

 

 

So.

Yeah, _no_.

They're not really talking. 

 

  

 

 

It's almost eleven at night, and Steve doesn't bother to pretend to walk around the store like he's actually here to buy something, because he  _definitely_  isn't.

Instead, he leans over Billy's counter, slurs, "Hey, I got  _so_ much respect for the people who do your job."

Billy stops in the middle of what looks like it's probably a  _really_  vicious all caps text, like, "You're  _obviously_  lying, but, fortunately for you, I  _am_ willing to see where it's going."

"Oh, look at  _you_! You're in a _good mood_!" 

And Billy  _really_  is, he's  _gotta_  be, because the store's pretty empty, and Billy  _always_  likes that, and there's this old song playing on the speakers, where some girl is sing-songing,  _now only God can hold me_ , and that's  _so_  fucking cute, like.

Steve's pretty sure this is _just_ a dumb old rap song, but it's  _cute_  that Billy likes dumb old rap songs with dumb throwaway lines about God in them, like.

Yeah,  _no_ , Steve's never gonna  _tell_  him that, because Billy would  _never_  let it go if Steve said something like that, but.

It  _is_  cute.

"I guess I am." Billy looks Steve up and down, shakes his head, adds, "Not as good as _you_ , though."

"Yeah,  _no_ , I mean, I  _bet_ , just 'cause _I_ am fucking  _lit_ , my man."

"I can tell."

"Yeah, okay, _anyway_ , listen, so I went drinking _—_ "

"With who?" 

"My mama."

Billy blinks, _finally_ puts his phone away, breathes, "Oh my  _God_." 

" _Shut up_ , it was  _fun_ , she got me, like,  _two daiquiris_ , anyway, so,  _then_  I went by CVS _—_ "

"You went shopping at my _rival store_?" 

"Billy, I was  _on that side of town—_ _"_

" _Okay_ , fuck,  _Jesus—_ "

" _Anyway_ , the checkout girl gave me  _so much_   _shit_  for not having a rewards card _—_ "

"That bitch."

" _Right_?! Like, I  _do_  have a card!" 

And, yeah, _okay_ , Steve  _doesn't_  have a card, but  _Billy_  does, and Steve uses it all the time, because he's not going to _sign up_  for his  _own_  card, but it's easy enough to rattle off Billy's phone number, and then they get, like,  _three dollars_  off their next purchase, and  _that's_  pretty cool, so. 

Steve doesn't have a card, but he knows Billy's phone number, which is _crazy_ , because he doesn't really know  _anybody else's_  phone number. 

Because Billy is the fucking  _best_ , he just nods, like, "Yeah, babe." 

"It's not  _my_  fault if her  _dumb_  system couldn't  _find_  my card _—_ "

"I _know_ , it's not." 

" _God_." Steve grabs a little orange bag of Miniature Reese's Cups off of the rack of impulse stuff that nobody actually needs in their lives, watches Billy roll his eyes as he bites it open, eats three at once. "Nobody _else_ is cool like you." 

"I don't know what that means." 

"It  _means_  when I couldn't remember my card number, like,  _before we even fucked_ , and you _still_ used yours, for me, so I could get, like,  _everything_  for free?" 

" _Discounted_ , not free." 

"Yeah, anyway,  _that_  was cool.  _That's_  what I like. You're the _best_."

Billy sighs, "You're telling me you're with me 'cause I saved you _five dollars_ , like. A  _million_  fucking years ago?" 

" _Don't_  say that like it's  _dumb_ , Hargrove. It makes  _sense_." 

"Okay." 

"Five bucks is a  _lot_  of money to a  _lot_  of people, and _—_ "

" _Okay_!"

Steve nods, yawns, leans a little closer over the register as he tries, "Hey, um. How about I let you do that weird thing you like if you come cuddle me a little, when you get home?" 

"Wow,  _really_ , King Steve? You'll  _let_ me?  _Goddamn_. What a  _generous offer_."

" _Okay_." Steve rolls his eyes, like he doesn't care, but. He  _does_  care. Steve _really_ misses cuddling with Billy, because Billy is  _so good_ at cuddling, like. His arms are  _perfect_  for it. "If you're saying  _no—_ "

"No,  _hey_ , I'm  _not_  saying no, alright, but, like, _Jesus Christ_ , I mean." Billy shakes his head, sounds quiet and tired and almost  _bitter_ , which is  _weird_ , it doesn't make  _sense_ , when he finishes, "You know, you could act like you fucking  _like_  me, sometimes."

Steve reaches out to rub his thumb across Billy's mouth, even though he shouldn't, because Billy's at _work_ , because somebody might _see_ , because.

Billy's mouth is _so_ fucking pretty.

 _Billy_  is so fucking pretty, just in general.

The fact that Steve is  _this_  aware of it, though, probably means that Steve is  _way_  too drunk to be anywhere that's not his own bedroom, so.

Steve pushes away from the register, shakes his head, laughs, "Why would I  _ever_  wanna do  _that_?"  

 

 

Steve has another drink, then one more, then gets into Billy's bed, and. 

Billy comes home, and they cuddle, and then they fuck, and it's not that bad, because Steve's _still_ pretty drunk, but it _is_ sorta weird, just because he's willingly doing something he _swore_ he wouldn't do, like,  _ten_   _times_ , and Billy was like,  _okay, fine, I was just joking, so shut up already_ , every fucking time, but.

Now, Steve's riding him, and Billy keeps going, " _Oh_ , that's  _so_  fucking good, baby," and. 

That _shouldn't_ be as reassuring as it is, like.

Steve's fucked people  _too_ , so,  _yeah_ , he  _knows_  Billy's gonna think it's good,  _pretty much_ no matter what.

He  _knows_  that. 

He still asks, sounding desperate and dumb and  _pathetic_ , "Yeah?"

" _Yeah_ ," and Billy's hiding a grin against the base of Steve's throat, like he thinks Steve can't fucking  _feel_  it, but at least Billy's not fucking  _biting_  him, like he does, sometimes, because that almost _always_ gets out of hand, and _that's_ when it's annoying, and. "Yeah, you're doing  _so_   _good_ for me, baby. You  _like_  being good for Daddy, don't you?" 

"Yeah,  _yes_ , yes _—_ "

"Tell Daddy you like it."

 _Jesus_ , Billy is _so_ fucked-up.

"I _like_ it, like it _so_ _much_ , come on,  _please—_ "

"Please,  _what_?" Billy prompts, and Steve doesn't  _know_ , he doesn't fucking know what that  _means_ , please  _what_ , Jesus, is Billy for fucking  _real_?

Please  _fuck me_ , please  _shut up_ , please  _stop being the worst fucking person I've ever known in my entire fucking life_ , and Billy gets his hands on Steve's hips, stops thrusting up into him, lets him squirm and whimper and just fucking  _waits_. 

Steve  _hates_  him. 

He hates him  _so_  fucking much. 

Like, Steve's pretty sure he's _not_ being overdramatic about this. 

He feels  _really_  fucking angry. 

But Billy is waiting, and Steve sorta wants to rush through this and just _come_ , already, so he can get out of here and go the fuck to _sleep_ , so. 

He licks his lips, because his mouth feels  _so_  fucking dry, like, he could drink an entire  _ocean_ , right now, probably, so maybe he's already gone  _straight_  past drunk and is hungover instead, which is  _not_  fucking fair, because he _shouldn't_ have to do something like this while he's _hungover_ , that's _too much_ , and.

And Billy's still fucking _waiting_ , so.

Steve tries, " _Please_ , Daddy?" 

Billy bounces Steve in his lap, just once, pushes, " _What_  was that?" 

Seriously, Steve has _never_ hated anyone  _this_  much. 

He sighs, rolls his eyes, repeats, " _Daddy_ , Daddy,  _please_ ," and then.

Steve's not on top anymore, because Billy is pulling out, shoving him around, and Steve is going to hit this motherfucker right in the fucking  _face_  if he takes forever, but he _doesn't_ , just slides right back in, breathless and hungry and maybe  _proud_  isn't the right word, but it's all Steve can think of when he registers the look on Billy's face, the tone of his voice, as he croons, "You're  _so_  fucking hot, baby. Make me wanna do this  _all_  the fucking time; I want you like this,  _just_  like this, for me,  _every_  fucking night."

And there's more, because Billy's  _always_  got something to say, and this isn't an exception, so he keeps it up, talks fast and low and dirty about how fucking  _pretty_  he thinks Steve is, and how Steve's being so  _good_  for him, just for Billy, _nobody else_  gets this,  _just_  him, and how it's so _good_ that Steve finally decided to let Billy fuck him like this,  _treat_  him like this, because isn't this so  _nice_? Doesn't it feel good?  _Yeah_ , of  _course_  it does, and they're gonna do it again, and again, and  _again_ , until Steve's fucking  _addicted_  to it, until he doesn't want to sleep or talk to anybody or go anywhere, just wants to stay in Billy's lap and call him  _Daddy_  and let Billy handle  _everything_  for him,  _all_  the time, and they  _can_  do that, and they're  _going_  to do that, because that's what Billy  _wants_. 

And, hey, it's  _nice_  that that's what Billy wants. 

Steve doesn't know for sure, but he thinks, like.

It's probably good and healthy and normal to  _want_  things. 

It's _okay_ that Billy wants that.

It really is.

Except, Billy doesn't  _know_  it yet, but.

This is  _never_  happening again.  

 

 

 

 

It's about three in the morning, and Billy's not usually like this, but he's acting like he thinks he fucking _owes_ Steve something.

He's spent the past few minutes just pressing kisses into Steve's hair, then kisses soft and sweet all over his face, and he's down by Steve's mouth, now, murmuring, "You okay, baby? Huh? You feeling good?"

What does that _mean_? 

 _No_ , Steve's not  _okay_ , why the _hell_ would he be _okay_?

He's said, like,  _a million times_  that he  _didn't_  want to do this, but he got wasted, and said he did,  _one fucking time_ , and Billy just  _went_  for it?

That's  _gross_ , right? 

Like, it's not _that_ bad, maybe, because,  _yeah_ , Steve  _was_  sorta into it, and he  _said_  yes, and, okay, Jesus,  _he's_  the one who brought it up, he  _remembers_  that, he  _knows_  that, but. 

He didn't really  _mean_  it.

Billy's supposed to know Steve, by now, a little bit, so.

How come he didn't  _know_  that?

What the  _fuck_  just happened? 

"I just. My head hurts." 

"Might've hit it against the bed," Billy's like, running his fingers over Steve's forehead, up through his hair, slow and careful and assessing, and.

And Steve's pretty sure it  _did_  bang against the headboard, once or twice, but he's definitely been hurt worse before, and, anyway, that's not  _really_  what his problem is, so he moves away from Billy, sits up, goes, "No, uh, it's _fine_ , I'm just. Drunk, still." 

"Okay? Whatever, just. Come lay down with me." 

Jesus,  _no_.

 _No_ , what the  _fuck_ , why would Steve _want_ to do that?

He gets out of bed, pulls on a sweater, except it's too big in the arms, and it reeks like sweat and smoke and Axe Kilo body spray, so it's not the sweater Steve took off before, it's  _Billy's_  fucking sweater, and  _that's_  annoying, like, yeah, it's _Billy's_ fucking bedroom, _fine_ , but why is his stuff _all over_ , all the _time_ , and why is he always _everywhere_  Steve is trying to be, and why can't Steve _ever_ just be _alone_ , sometimes, and.

Steve feels really fucked-up.

He wants to, he _really_ wants to, but he can't just  _walk out_   _of here_ , and.

He should find some more clothes, but he doesn't want to reach for anything else that might end up being Billy's, again, because he will probably fucking _scream_ , if that happens, and casual screaming _isn't_ a good vibe, like.

That might be enough to make Billy finally hit him in the face, for real.

Or worse, like, one of the neighbors might call the cops on them, or.

Even _worse_ , like.

Well.

Maybe Billy would dump Steve, then, and Steve doesn't exactly know _why_ , but he knows he  _doesn't_ want that to happen, so.

"Um, no. Thanks, though." 

Billy gives him a minute, then starts, in this fake-thoughtful fake-casual  _I'm about to insult you so fucking brace yourself_  kinda voice, "You're still pretty drunk, King Steve?" 

"Yeah." 

"And you don't feel kind of  _pathetic_ , being _that_  wasted?" 

" _No_." 

"But you had two drinks." 

"Um, no, five." 

"You  _definitely_  had two." 

"No," Steve says, standing by Billy's door. It's probably unlocked, just like it usually is, but it locks from the inside, so that's not really a problem. Steve just doesn't want to open the door if they're still talking, because. He did that, one time, and Billy got _really_ annoyed and started calling Steve, like,  _rude_ , or  _disrespectful_ , or  _something_  equally fake and dumb and _crazy_ , and Steve sorta just rolled his eyes and moved on, but he doesn't want Billy to be annoyed _now_ , because then Billy might get up, and Steve feels like he  _really_  just needs Billy to stay where he is. "Mom bought me some, and _then_ this guy came over to talk to me and got me three, so. I had five. That's. Yeah, that's  _five_." 

"You let some  _random_  guy buy you _three drinks_?" 

"He was in a really nice suit."

"Okay, but that's  _worse_ , I mean.  _What_ , that's all it  _takes_?" 

" _Look_ , it's not like I  _fucked_ him," Steve points out. "I just hung out, and, like.  _Nodded_  a lot when he talked to me about his  _dumb_   _job_ , so _—_ "

"This is sounding  _very_  reminiscent of our  _actual relationship—_ "

And Steve _knows_ it's different now, he _knows_ Billy changed his mind, he _knows_ Billy said they were dating.

Billy says a _lot_ of things, though, and Steve _still_ doesn't know how many of them are true.

He _wants_ to say it like he's angry, but Steve's not _like_ Billy, _he_ only sounds angry if he's _loud_ , and he can _hear_ himself, so he knows he's _real_ fucking quiet when he goes, "Well, I thought this  _wasn't_ a relationship _—_ "

"In an  _unconventional way_ , Harrington,  _yeah_ , we have a  _fucking relationship_." 

Steve can't _take_ this.

He wants to go home.

And he _knows_ that he's _already_ home, but that's not what he _needs_. 

Steve needs to go  _home_ , because. 

He needs to be somewhere where Billy can't go. 

He feels uncomfortable, and tired, and fucking _scared_ , and he _only_ feels like that because of _Billy_.

He's _never_ been scared of Billy before, not in bed, anyway, and he wasn't earlier, either, but he's scared _now_.

How is he supposed to _say_  that? 

He _can't_ say it.

It's not going to make any  _sense_  to anybody.

It doesn't even really make sense to  _him_. 

He manages to get out, "Okay. Listen, man, I gotta go to bed, so. I'll see you tomorrow," and he's out the door like he's walking in a dream, but it feels like waking up once he locks his door, steps toward his bed, then.

Steve turns back, spends a few minutes just running his fingers over the lock. 

He's never done this before. 

He  _knows_  his door is locked.

He  _just_  fucking locked it. 

He can  _see_  that it's locked. 

But he still doesn't feel  _sure_.

He doesn't feel _safe_.

He wants to go  _home_. 

 

 

 

Steve's not close to his family.

They stopped doing Thanksgiving dinners when Steve was seven, stopped making a big deal out of Christmas when he was twelve, stopped having birthday parties when he was fourteen.

But Steve is pretty sure something _really_ fucked up just happened to him, and it's _really_  early in the morning, and he _really_ needs to talk to somebody about it, but if he calls his mom, well. 

What the fuck is he going to _say_?

 _Hey, remember when you said Billy seemed fucked up, and then we talked about my windows?_

Yeah, _no_ , if Steve says that, Mom's going to go,  _Steven, it's the middle of the night, I'm going back to bed_ , and she'll hang up, and he'll just feel like an asshole for waking her up, so.

So, he _can't_ do that, and he _can't_ call Dad, because Dad _doesn't_ _care_ about Steve, like, he doesn't even really _know_ about Billy, and. 

For the first time in years, Steve's parents are _actually_ in town when he needs them, but.

It's _still_ like they're living on different fucking _planets_. 

Steve doesn't know what's wrong with him. 

He doesn't know anybody else who's like this. 

If this was happening to Dustin, Dustin would call his mom.

Mike would call his mom, Will would call his mom, Max would call her mom. 

Even _Billy_ would probably call his mom.

Steve doesn't know too much about her, because Billy doesn't talk about her that much, because they don't talk about Billy's family, really, or about his life before he came to Hawkins, at _all_ , but.

Sometimes he mentions her, in passing, and.

He _loved_ her, Steve can fucking _tell_ , and she loved him _too_ , and if she was still around, if Billy called her at three in the morning, she would pick up, right?

She would want him to be okay.

And Billy _deserves_ that, but only because _everybody_  fucking deserves that.

But if Billy is good enough for that kinda thing, even _Billy_ , Steve doesn't know why  _he_  can't be good enough, _too_.

 

Steve's not going to be able to look his dad in the eyes, today, so.

He doesn't go to work. 

He doesn't call in sick, doesn't even text Madison, which is shitty of him, he knows that, but.

He doesn't really care.

At this point, Steve would sorta fucking  _love_  to get fired.

He stays in bed, stares at the ceiling, listens to his sleep playlist, even though he  _knows_  he's not going to get any sleep.

There was a while there, in high school, when his sleep songs were self-harm songs, but that only lasted, for, like, _two weeks_ , and then Steve _totally_ got it out of his system.

Maybe  _some_  people like pain, but Steve  _isn't_ one of them. 

But his playlist hasn't changed that much, and it's been _hours_ , but he's still feeling kinda fucked-up and fragile and scared, so. 

He should probably stop listening to this stuff.

Just for a little bit. 

His phone lights up, and if it's his fucking _dad_ , trying to give him shit for not going into the office, Steve is going to cry, or scream, or  _something_ , but.

It's just Billy. 

 _dont let weird guys buy yr drinks anymore_

 _ur the weirdest guy i kno and u buy me drinks all the time_

 _ok ill stop_  Billy replies.  _if thts what u WANT_

 _is there a reason ur being passive aggressive via text bc i cant take it rn_

 _fine_

He's still just _scowling_ at the screen, waiting for Billy to say something else,  _anything_  the fuck _else_ , but he  _doesn't_ , and.

The phone lights up with a call from Max, who  _never_  calls anybody,  _just_  texts, so. 

Maybe she's, like. 

 _Dying_ , so.

He's probably  _got_  to pick it up. 

 

 

"And then he was like,  _fine_ ," Steve tells Max, who looks bored as shit. In true obnoxious California kid form, she's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and there's greenish-yellow marks wrapping around one of her arms, like maybe somebody dug their fingers in and wouldn't let go. Lucas is growing up, but Steve's pretty sure his hands aren't that big, yet, so. It could've been Billy, that time at Lucas' house, but. It could've been Billy's dad, too, later that night. Steve doesn't know, and. He's honestly too scared to ask her about it. "And now I haven't heard from him  _all day long_." 

"Just for, whatever, the  _irony_ , I'm gonna point out that, if, like, six months ago, you hadn't heard from Billy all day, you would be  _super_ into it." 

This is _absolutely_ true.

Steve doesn't know why he _wants_ to hear from Billy.

He'd  _like_  to know why, but, yeah, no, he has  _no_  fucking clue.

He could ask Max, because she's right here, and she's not _like_ Steve, she's _smart_ , so she'd probably know, but.

It won't make _sense_ to Max unless Steve tells her more about what happened last night, because he didn't tell Max everything.

He actually didn't even tell her  _most_  of it.

All he really said was that some guy bought him some booze, and Steve told Billy, and then Billy got annoyed.

Steve _could_  tell her about what happened, but.

She's _just_ a kid, and even if he doesn't _want_ to be, Billy's _still_ kinda sorta her big brother, so.

She doesn't need to know that kinda thing about him.

And.

And, _okay_ , well.

It's just that Billy didn't act like anything _weird_ happened, so.

It's not like Steve thinks he's making it all up, because he knows he isn't.

But, being with Nancy really _was_ his longest relationship, his most _serious_ one, and it was pretty tame, sexually.

Every time they fucked, it was always, like, missionary, with the lights off, under the blankets, which was  _fine_ , or, no, it was  _great_ , even, actually, most of the time, but it just means that a lot of the stuff Steve does with Billy is _new_ , like.

 _Yeah_ , Steve  _knew_  about it, he'd just never  _done_  it, so. 

Maybe he's just working himself up for no reason, like.

Maybe he just thinks last night was worse than it really was.

Maybe Billy's not, like, the  _nicest_   _person_ , but he's always been pretty good to Steve, even  _before_  they started hooking up, and. 

That  _means_  something.

"You know  _what_ , Maxine, I don't expect  _you_ to get this, but you feel  _differently_ about guys once you start, um. Like, just. _Living_ with them, so." 

Max raises her eyebrows. "Okay,  _I'm_  sorry, I have spent  _way_ more time dating boys than you have,  _and_ I've read more than two books,  _total_ , in my  _whole_  life _—_ "

" _Hey—_ "

"And you think  _I'm_  the one who doesn't know about oxytocin?  _Me_?" 

Steve doesn't know what that word means, but it probably doesn't matter. 

He can't  _believe_  he's been sitting around a fucking _skatepark_ all day.

He's  _really_  gotta find a way to make some friends his age.

"Yeah, hey, how's everything with Lucas, anyway?"

Max quits messing around with some of the tape that's on her board, opens her mouth, snaps it shut, tries again, "Um. We're on a break." 

"Okay? Weird. Why?" 

"It's a _whole thing_ ; you wouldn't _understand_."

And, fuck, _hey_ , maybe it's Steve's _own fucking fault_ for not really saying too much about it earlier, but this thing that everybody's doing, lately, where they act like Steve is the dumbest person alive?

Yeah, that's _really_ getting on his _fucking_ nerves.

"Try me."

"Nah," she's like. "Just don't worry about it." 

"Yeah, and. Okay.  _Why_  did you need to skip school, today, again?"

"Did you forget  _already_ , 'cause I don't wanna sound like a _bitch_ , okay, but I told you, like,  _five_   _times_." 

"But you were  _lying_ to me, then,  _right_?" 

" _Yes_ , Steve, I  _was_. But, seriously," Max smiles. " _Don't_  worry about it."  

 

 

Steve drops Max off at home, sits in the parking lot outside of his apartment for an hour and a half before he _finally_  hits on the bright idea of calling Dustin, so.

Hey, it _still_ sucks. 

But, yeah, maybe it _is_ fair, that thing everyone's been doing.

Steve _is_ that fucking dumb. 

 

 

 

 

He's been waiting on Dustin for about four minutes, which doesn't  _seem_ like a lot of time, but it  _totally_ is, because it's not like Dustin has anything  _better_  to do than talk to Steve, so. 

Four minutes is three too many minutes. 

It's  _insulting_. 

"You were _weird_ on the phone, so," Dustin's like, _finally_ coming to the door, holding a tattered old Converse in one hand. " _What_ do you want?" 

"I...just wanna hang out, man? I mean, that's our  _thing_." 

"Not really, anymore, but. _Okay_. I got D &D, though, so...I don't know if you wanna come?" 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Wait, you guys _really_ still do that?"

Dustin narrows his eyes.

Steve holds up his hands innocently, like, "Not that there's anything.  _Wrong_  with that. You're just? In the _tenth grade_ , now, so. I just thought. But, I mean, yeah,  _no_ , it's not, like. Weird."

"I can  _tell_  you're lying to me, but, _God_ , I  _don't_  fucking care. I _gotta_ find my shoes." 

Steve steps into Dustin's house, closes the door, leans back against it while Dustin rummages through a pile of shoes, apparently looking for his other sneaker.

And Steve _doesn't_ really care, but he _doesn't_ want Dustin noticing that Steve's still feeling weird, because he'll ask a _lot_ of questions, and Steve _can't_ talk to him about that shit, so he asks, "Hey, do _you_ know what's up with Lucas and Max?" 

Dustin scowls. "Did _Billy_ send you here on a _fact-finding mission_ , 'cause _—_ " 

"Hey, no,  _don't_ do that shit to me, okay?  _No_ , nobody  _sent_ me, 'cause  _I_  don't live in a James Bond movie, and neither do  _you_ , so _—_ "

"How many Bond movies have you even  _seen_?" 

"Um." That's a valid question, but. "I think maybe I saw the one Ben Whishaw was in?" 

" _Steve_ , he's been in  _two_!"

"Yeah,  _whatever_ , I'm not gonna work my  _entire_   _life_ around  _Ben Whishaw_ , okay?! What's so  _great_  about him?! He's pale, and he's from, like, _Australia_ , and he's got big hands? _Shit_ , who even  _cares_?!"

Dustin tugs his shoes on, pushes Steve out the door, complains, " _God_ , you are  _so_ embarrassing." 

There's a vaguely familiar girl sneaking out of the Wheeler's place when Steve parks his car out front. 

Dustin waves at her, and she looks _right_ at him before she just _walks away_ , so Steve's like, " _Wow_."

Dustin informs him, "That's Jane. I mean, El."

" _Who_?"

"Mike's girlfriend?" 

"Oh, right. Yeah, _sorry_ , right. Okay. So, her name's  _Jane_ , really, _or_...?" 

"Yeah, like, that's the name on her  _birth certificate_ , but  _Mike_  calls her  _El_. It's short for _Eleven_ , but we  _don't_  know why, like. Mike _won't_ tell us what it means. I think maybe he just doesn't like her real name."

There are  _so many_ problems with that vibe. 

Steve doesn't think he's in any real position to judge anybody, today, though, so. 

"Wow. Good. _Okay_ , well! You ready to play some D&D?" 

 

 

 

 

For the past, like, _thirty minutes_ , Mike's been telling everybody about how his girlfriend might move back to Chicago, and if she _does_ , they're going to stay in touch, and he'll go up there to see her when school lets out, and then he'll eventually go to college out there, or something, which is just  _not_  going to happen, because relationships don't really  _work_  that way, in real life. 

Steve's _not_ going to tell Mike that, though, because the kid seems pretty bummed out, already. 

He forgot, though, that he's not the only person here with relationship drama going on, because. 

Lucas tells Mike, " _Look_ , you can do better than El,  _anyway_ , she's a  _freak_."

"Shut the  _fuck_  up!"

" _Guys_ ," Dustin groans, but he's too late, because Mike has _already_ stopped looking upset and has started looking homicidal, again, instead, and.

Max can't  _really_  be paying attention to this dumb conversation, because she is very  _clearly_  watching a makeup tutorial video on Youtube with the sound turned off when she offers, "Billy always says the only reason to date is just to get somebody else to pay for all your shit."

Everybody that's not Max turns to look at Steve, so.

"Yeah, well, Billy's full of it, okay?  _Billy_  usually pays for  _my_ stuff."

Across the table, Will opens his mouth, closes it, raises his eyebrows at Lucas, who says, "Uh,  _yeah_ , that doesn't mean he's  _wrong_ , though."

"That actually is a point  _toward_ him being  _right_ ," Dustin agrees.

Mike adds, "It just means that  _you're_  the girl."

"Hey, okay,  _no_ , we're  _both_ the boys, there  _is_ no girl, that's kinda the  _point_ , oh my _God_. Jesus, kid, wake  _up_."

Mike is _still_ making a face like he thinks Steve is dumb as all shit, except that's not even a  _little_  bit out of the ordinary, so.

"Okay, look, man, I  _get_  that you're heartbroken, but can you do me a favor and just get back to watching  _BoJack Horseman_  on your phone, and start _ignoring_ me, again, like you _used_ to, 'cause I _really_ miss that."

"I  _don't_ watch  _BoJack Horseman_." 

Steve rolls his eyes.

He's fucking  _tired_.

He still wants to go  _home_ , but he's less sure, now, that he wants to go to his old house. 

Maybe he'll feel better if he just goes back to the apartment. 

He doesn't need that house, and he doesn't need his fucking  _parents_ , either, because he's not a fucking  _kid_.

"Yeah, I  _can't_ take this anymore. I'll see you guys."

 

 

 

 

Billy's not home when Steve gets back from the Wheeler's, and he's not answering his texts, and Steve's fucking  _tired_ , so.

If Billy  _wants_  to be upset over nothing, he fucking  _can_  be.

Steve doesn't fucking  _care_.

He'll give Billy some really good head tomorrow, and then, _hopefully_ , Billy will just get over it like he always does.

If he  _doesn't_ , Steve doesn't know what the  _fuck_  he's going to do, because.

Steve's not going to fucking  _apologize_ , or something, if  _that's_  what Billy's waiting for.

He doesn't  _have_  to.

He didn't  _do_  anything  _wrong_.

Or, at least. 

He doesn't  _think_  he did.

 

 

 

 

Billy's _still_ not home in the morning, but that's fine, because Steve hasn't slept, so he's been up all night, just.

Just thinking, a lot.

Thinking about _Billy_ , and it's.

 _Okay_ , like.

Steve was  _so_  into it when Billy told him he was _good_ , wasn't he? 

 _So_  fucking into it, so  _stupidly_  into it, and.

Billy gets mean, sometimes. 

Really _mean_ , and really _smart_ , and maybe he  _knew_  Steve wanted to be good, so he told him he was, but Steve _isn't_ good, just like he's not good enough for Billy, and so Billy's just not here because he didn't actually _mean_ it.

It almost seemed  _too_  fucked up to be true, when it first crossed Steve's mind, around midnight, but.

Billy  _is_  that fucking mean.

He  _is_.

And when Steve didn't want to believe it, it was _different_ , but he's _accepted_ it now, and. 

If Steve keeps thinking about this shit, he's probably gonna cry.

Oh,  _God_.

Fuck.

Yeah, _great_.

Steve's about to fucking  _cry_.

 

 

 

 

He stays gone all weekend, but on Monday morning, Steve walks into the living room, and Billy's back.

He's sitting in the armchair with his legs spread _obnoxiously_ wide open, with his phone pressed to his face like it's an ice pack, and as soon as he notices Steve, Billy groans, " _God_ , my head fucking  _hurts_." 

Steve yawns, "Did you try taking some Tylenol?"

Billy moves his phone, tilts his head, mocks, " _Did you try Tylenol_?" 

Steve scowls. 

" _Yeah_ , King Steve, I  _fucking_  took some Tylenol, 'cause I'm not a fucking  _idiot_." 

"Yeah, I didn't _say—_ "

"You  _basically_  did."

" _Okay_ ," Steve's like, rolling his eyes, grabbing his phone, his keys, his jacket. "You're _obviously_ in a bad mood, so, uh. I'm just gonna go."

"I'm trying to fucking  _talk_  to you, here," says Billy, but he's still sitting down, and if he was  _really_  pissed that Steve wasn't talking to him, he'd get up and grab him so they could talk, which Steve _hates_ a lot of the time, but _kinda_ secretly likes, _sometimes_ , and.

And it seems like Billy's not really trying to _talk_ to Steve as much as he's trying to bully him into starting a fight, like he thinks they're still in _high school_ , so.

"I got work in an hour."

"So be fucking  _late_  to work."

"I can't."

Billy rolls his eyes. " _Please_ , like you're not late  _all_  the fucking time."

"I _—_ "

"Like it fucking  _matters_  if you're late, when your  _daddy_  signs your paychecks, and, _hey_ , it's not like he can bitch about it, right? I mean,  _he's_  the one who never taught you how to fucking  _work_  for anything in your life." 

It's seven in the morning, Billy is being a  _huge_  fucking asshole, and.

And Steve doesn't really know _why_ Billy thinks he has the _right_ to do that, but it's _really_ pissing him off. 

" _Wow_ , um. Yeah, I'm leaving now." 

Billy rolls his eyes again, smiles, shrugs, "Okay. See you tonight. I hope you have fun at your fake job where you never do anything that fucking  _matters_." 

But that's a _joke_ , isn't it?

Because, if it's not, that's a _really_  shitty thing to say, so. 

Billy didn't _actually_ just say that, _did_ he? 

" _Excuse_  me, _asshole_?"

"I think you heard me."

" _Right_ , okay, as opposed to  _your_  job where—"

"Where I'm  _literally_  giving people food and water and all the other shit they need to fucking  _survive_? Is  _that_  the job you’re talking about, princess?"

The problem with the whole  _princess_ thing is just that Steve still doesn't fucking _like_ it, but he _knows_ Billy likes saying it, so. 

Steve lets Billy get away with it, just like he lets Billy do whatever he wants  _most_  of the time, because it's easier to just give Billy what he wants than to fight with him, feel dumb over it, and then get stuck giving Billy whatever he wants, in the end,  _anyway_.

And princesses are delicate pretty vulnerable _girls_ , and Steve's not really  _any_ of that, but somehow, it doesn't usually sound like an insult, like.

It sorta just sounds like Billy doesn't want to readjust all of his speech patterns just because he's dating Steve, and not a girl, like he used to, most of the time?

So, it's _fine_ , kinda, except.

It doesn't _usually_ sound like it _just_ did, like maybe Billy really meant to say,  _you're spoiled, and you're dumb, and you can't do anything by yourself_.

Or. 

Not _maybe_ , right? 

Like, that's obviously  _exactly_ what Billy meant, so. 

Steve spits, "Okay,  _fuck_   _you_ ," and makes sure to slam the front door on his way out, because he knows Billy fucking  _hates_  that.

 

 

 

 

Steve gets out of work at four-thirty, gets home at four-fifty, locks his door, thinks about texting Dustin to hang out. 

Dustin will have school tomorrow, and won't be able to stay out too late, but. 

They could still hang out. 

He doesn't want to see Billy, and Billy's going to be done at work at six, so he's _gotta_ figure it out by, like, five-thirty. 

Halloween's coming up, so. 

Maybe Steve could help Dustin pick out his costume?

He texts,  _wanna hang out?_

Dustin leaves Steve on read for _eight fucking minutes_ , then gets back to him, like,  _ya but only til 10 i hav 2 tests tmrw steve TWO i am MEGA STRESSED_

 

 

 

 

"How's it going, King Steve?"

Steve shrugs, standing halfway inside the apartment, halfway in the hall, feeling a lot like he wants to just _leave_.

But he's not even all the way home yet, he _can't_ leave, that would be  _so_ dumb.

"Are you coming _in_ here, or _what_?" 

Steve rolls his eyes, steps forward, shuts the front door, and. 

Right away, Billy demands, "Where the _fuck_ have you been?" 

"Me and Dustin went to the movies."

"You know,  _most_  fucking people, like,  _normal people_ , you ask, _hey, where you been_ , and they don't really go,  _oh, you know, I was just out on a date with a little kid_."

" _Oh_ ," Steve's like. "So, you're  _still_  being a dick?  _Great_."

For a second, Steve thinks Billy is going to apologize. 

It would be out of character for Billy, of course, but. 

He _can't_ think that _Steve's_ going to apologize to _him_.

Steve hasn't fucking  _done_  anything he needs to apologize _for_. 

_Billy_ is the one who keeps fucking up. 

He hesitates in front of his door until Billy wants to know, "What the fuck are you even  _doing_ , over there?" 

Steve snaps, " _Nothing_ ," goes into his room, locks his door, tries to figure out how stupid it would be to text his mom to ask if he can stay in his old room for a little bit. 

Probably  _really_  stupid, right? 

He _shouldn't_ do that. 

It would be  _way_  too embarrassing, and.

His mom probably isn't even in town, anymore, anyway.

 

 

 

 

It's Steve's turn to cover D&D carpool, again, so he does, but.

He just wants to go home, the whole time.

But then, by the time Steve _gets_ home, he doesn't even want to be _there_ , so.

He doesn't know where he's supposed to wanna be.

Maybe he's just not supposed to be _anywhere_.

Maybe the Barb thing is _finally_ coming full-circle.

It's just after midnight, and Steve's in his room, getting high, listening to music. 

Once upon a time, his sleep playlist was his self-harm playlist, but it's _not_ anymore, it hasn't been for a _long time,_ and Steve doesn't _have_ to do shit like that, because he's a fucking _adult_. 

He can take care of himself. 

He doesn't _have_ to hurt himself for no fucking reason, he _knows_ that, but. 

_Teen Idle_ plays, _Home_  plays, _If I Believe You_ plays. 

_I toss and I turn in my bed, and it's just like I've lost my head_ , and _I was drunk again, causing accidents, you're not a friend, no, you're nothing_ , and,  _instead of being sixteen, burning up a Bible, and feeling super super super suicidal_ , and.

And Steve is going to get hurt if he stays in his room, tonight. 

There's nobody _in_ here except for _Steve_ , but. 

He's _gonna_  get hurt.

He's been thinking about this too much. 

Maybe he should just _do_ it, and then he can forget about it again, for another few years, like last time. 

Nobody noticed last time. 

Nobody will notice this time, _either_ , and it _won't_ take very long, and then he won't have to think about it anymore.

It _doesn't_ have to be a big deal.

_idfc_  plays, _Asphyxiated_ plays, _The After Life of the Party_ plays. 

_I'm a stitch away from making it and a scar away from falling apart_ , and _loaded till I'm crashing, my brain is just a bad computer and I don't give a damn_ , and _I act like I don't fucking care, because I'm so fucking scared_ , and the front door opens, the hallway light turns on, a door opens, closes, the shower starts running, so.

Yeah, it doesn't have to be a big deal, but.

It doesn't have to be _tonight_ , either.

Steve gets up, checks his hair, goes down the hall to wait in Billy's room. 

 

 

 

 

" _Hey_ ," Billy sighs, leaning over Steve, like that's  _not_  annoying, like his hair's  _not_ dripping water all over Steve's face. "King Steve, get your ass _up_. I need to _sleep_." 

Who wakes somebody _up_ like that?

What the fuck is  _wrong_  with Billy?

Steve groans, "Stop being  _mad_  at me." 

"I'm not fucking _mad_ , Harrington." 

" _Yeah_ , you _are_." 

" _Okay_ , I  _was_ , but now I'm not." That sounds like a _lie_. Steve doesn't _believe_ that. "Come on, baby, go to bed." 

"I wanna sleep in here." 

"You _hate_ sleeping in here; you get nightmares."

And, okay, that is  _totally_ true.   
  
Steve has no idea  _why_ , but Billy's room always freaks him out.

He's still a little bit stoned, though, so.

He'll probably be okay.

"Not this time." 

"Jesus,  _fine_ , but if you wake me up like last time, I'm just going to goddamn _murder_ you, and move _on_ with my life, like  _Gone Girl_ , except Ben Affleck  _wins_ at the end, like he fucking _deserved_ to." 

Steve never saw  _Gone Girl_.

That guy from  _A Series Of Unfortunate Events_  freaks him out too much.

Still, he lies, "Yeah, okay. Sounds fair." 

 

 

 

 

Billy's sitting up in bed and staring at his phone when Steve wakes up, so.

Steve yawns, " _Hi_."

"I keep on seeing my dad, like," and Billy runs a hand through his hair, shrugs, sighs. "He keeps on coming by the store? Like, not to _get_ anything, just."

"Oh."

" _Just_ to be a dick."

"Right. Yeah."

"Yeah, but. I'm not, like. Pissed at _you_ , okay? I was just. It's about my dad."

" _Okay_ ," says Steve, because that makes _sense_ , and he _gets_ it, but. "That. That doesn't make it _cool_ , though, Billy." 

"I'm not fucking saying it's an  _excuse_ , Harrington, I'm just saying it's what fucking  _happened_." 

"Don't  _yell_  at me." 

"How dumb are you?" Billy asks Steve, sounding like he _really_ wants an answer, like it just doesn't _matter_ if he says awful shit like that to Steve, like Billy can just talk to Steve _however he wants_ , he can _do_ whatever he wants, and it will _never_ matter to anybody, because _Steve_ doesn't fucking matter to anybody. "Do you know what yell even  _means_? Do I fucking  _sound_  like I'm raising my voice?" 

"No. Sorry."

" _Great_ ," Billy's like, rolling his eyes, getting back to fucking around on his phone, like Steve's not  _right_  here next to him.

Steve bites his lip, thinks about going home again, but that _still_ doesn't seem like it's very likely to work out, so.

He sits up, climbs up behind Billy, wraps his arms around him.  

Billy tenses, relaxes, sighs, " _What_? What do you _want_?" 

Billy can't see him, but Steve feels like he'll just fucking  _know_  if Steve rolls his eyes at him, so he doesn't, but. 

It's a  _very_  close thing. 

He kisses Billy's neck a few times before he asks, " _Hey_ , um, could I suck your cock?" 

He sounds hopeful and slutty and _hungry_.

He sounds _pathetic_.

He _hates_ it, he _really_ does, but at least he _knows_ Billy's gonna say yes.

There's no way in _hell_ he says no, because no one would _ever_ say no to a _blowjob_ , like.

_All_ guys like getting blown, Steve's pretty sure, and Billy, in particular, _definitely_ loves it, so. 

_Yes_ is the obvious answer, right?

Except, Billy goes, " _Fuck_ , just shut _up_." 

Oh.

Okay, that's.

That's _fine_.

It's not the _end_ of the fucking _world_.

Steve doesn't even  _like_  giving head, _anyway_ , so.

"Come on, man, please? I'll. I mean. I can do it _however_ you _want—_ "

" _Jesus_!" Billy laughs, turns his head to look at Steve, lightly taps two of his fingertips against Steve's lips. It feels kinda demeaning, but. At least he's probably  _thinking_ about it, now, right? That's what Steve _wanted_ , so. " _Harrington_ , I already fucking  _said_  I wasn't mad at you." 

"It's not  _like_  that," Steve lies. "I just  _really_  miss your dick." 

"Not the rest of me, though, huh?" 

"Yeah, no, not really." 

"Got me feeling kind of _objectified_ over here, Harrington, I don't know." 

Steve's not going to be able to fucking  _beg_  for the fucking  _honor_  of  _getting_  to give Billy a blowjob for much longer without wanting to  _actually_  kill himself. 

Doesn't Billy _know_ that? 

Or.

Or, maybe he _knows_ , but.

It just doesn't _matter_ , right?

" _Please_? You don't. I  _really_  want it. I want it  _so_  bad." 

"What the fuck is _up_ , King Steve? You on _X_ , or something?" 

Is that a _joke_?

Do people even still _take_  ecstasy?

_Shit_ , do they even still _make_ it?

" _Billy_ , I'm not fucking  _high_ ," Steve sighs, and he _tries_ to think about what Billy likes, about what Billy might want to hear, but Billy saying no to that blowjob _really_ fucked with him, so he's not coming up with too much, except for that thing that Steve is _never_ saying again, so. "I just wanna give you head, 'cause I _missed_ you, and 'cause you _deserve_ it, and 'cause I wanna get _all_ your come in me, and I _—_ " 

And Billy goes for it, thank fucking  _God_ , gets a hand in Steve's hair, pulls him in for a real kiss before he pushes down on Steve's shoulder, goes, "Jesus, _alright_ , just. Take your time, baby. Real slow for me, okay?"

Steve can do that, but it means he'll be late for work, again.

He feels a little annoyed about it, in advance, but he _doesn't_ want things to keep being weird between him and Billy, so.

"Okay." 

Billy tugs on his hair, waits for Steve to look up, tells him, "Be  _good_." 

What the fuck is _that_ about?

Like, is Billy just trying to be a fucking _demon_ , or is this, like, a real fucking _problem_?

_Be good_?

What the hell does that _mean_?

When the fuck is Steve _not_ _good_? 

 

 

 

 

Steve sucks Billy's dick, goes back to sleep, wakes up _real_ late for work.

But.

It's a _fake_ _job_ , isn't it?

Nobody _wants_ him there, _anyway_.

He doesn't _have_ to go.

But he gets out of bed, and Billy's not home anymore, and Steve doesn't know what the fuck he's going to _do_  all fucking day, all by _himself_ , so. 

He goes to work. 

 

 

 

 

Billy doesn't come home, and he doesn't come home, and he doesn't come home, until Wednesday, when Steve wakes up, and Billy's fucking around on Tinder, in the kitchen, working his way through a bottle of red Gatorade.

Steve hasn't seen Billy in _days_ , and Billy hasn't been answering his texts, or calls, or _anything_ , but it's like Billy's just pretending that's not true, or something, because he doesn't mention any of it, just offers, "Working late tonight." 

"...okay?" 

"I put some, like. Mini Snickers by the door if we get trick-or-treaters." 

Steve _hates_ Snickers, so.

That's _annoying_ , but it _is_  smart, because if Billy got candy that Steve  _liked_ , Steve would've just eaten all of them before trick-or-treating even _started_ , so.

Yeah. 

_Yeah_ , Billy is super smart.

Of _course_ he is, because smart people who don't even like Steve, and are just waiting for somebody better to come along, are Steve's type. 

And it's been hitting him, lately, like.

Billy doesn't _have_ to be Steve's boyfriend if he doesn't _want_ to be.

And Billy only said they were together, _what_?

Once or twice?

And he never _really_ talked about it, like it didn't _mean_ anything, so.  

So.

Maybe Billy's never _actually_ been Steve's boyfriend, at all, because that wasn't  _ever_ what he wanted, and Steve _knew_ it, but he pretended he didn't know, because he's just _that_  pathetic.

Steve repeats, "Okay." 

Like Steve's not fucking  _looking_   _right at him_ , or something, Billy rolls his eyes and mouths,  _okay_ , puts his Gatorade in the fridge, pushes past Steve to head for the door. 

And, honestly, it's okay, it _is_ , because even when Steve was in high school, he never had a set-up that was _this_  perfect. 

He never knew exactly when his parents were going to be coming and going, and he had neighbors who called the cops on him once _just because_ he didn't move his car or get his mail or open his door for six days, and he _always_ had Nancy and Tommy and all these other people expecting him to _go places._  

Billy _just said_ he's not going to be back for _hours_ , and honestly, the way things have been going, as long as he doesn't actually _see_ Steve, Billy probably won't even think about Steve until he wants to fuck again, so.

Steve doesn't like pain, but he doesn't know how else to deal with how he's feeling, and this is a _golden_ opportunity to just get it out of the way.

If anybody else was having this problem, if they told Steve about it, he would tell them to call somebody, or go somewhere, or do something, so.

He _knows_ he should call somebody, or go somewhere, or _do something_ , because. 

It's getting _really_ bad.

It hasn't been this bad for awhile. 

Like, maybe, um.

Yeah, now that Steve's really  _thinking_ about it, like.

It wasn't even this bad the  _last time_ , actually, so.

Steve is going to get hurt if he stays where he is, now, and he _knows_ it, but.

He just doesn't have anywhere else to fucking  _go_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _chapter title from_ : the take over, the breaks over (fall out boy)   
> _songs referenced throughout the text_ : guys my age (hey violet) // give me love (ed sheeran) // im real (jennifer lopez & ja rule) // teen idle (marina and the diamonds) // home (daughter) // if i believe you (the 1975) // idfc (blackbear) // asphyxiated (moors) // the afterlife of the party (fall out boy)


	4. (on call to the fall) baby, you know just what i like

**november**

Max's latest Instagram post is captioned, _this just in; Some People are Naturally Photogenic & i fucking Hate them 4 it??! anyway heres he who must not be named teaching me 2 drive in a walgreens parking lot!! #glamour #tbt_

The picture is Billy, in profile, looking annoyed, with his lips wrapped around a cigarette, and a tiny little baby Max, in the corner, beaming up at the camera, sitting in the front seat of Billy's car.

Billy's already got his ear pierced, he has what looks like a mostly-faded black eye, he has his hair cut short in one of those undercuts that used to be popular way back when Steve was _just_ starting high school. 

Steve closes out of Instagram.

It's the first of November.

It's a Thursday.

He has to go to work. 

There's dried blood all across one of his thighs, a little bit on one of his wrists, a _lot_ more up where the sleeves of his shirts are gonna cover it up.

He wastes a few minutes searching through his room, but Steve eventually finds the ridiculously oversized braided friendship bracelet Tommy sent him in the mail, this one time when his parents sent him away to go to summer camp, and.

He pulls on shoes, slacks, a dark shirt, just in case any of the cuts open back up. 

As soon as he's in the hallway, he can hear something playing in Billy's room.

That means Billy's awake, but his door is closed, so.

He probably just doesn't want to see Steve.

That's fair. 

Why _would_ he want to see Steve? 

Even _Steve_  doesn't want to see Steve.  

   

 

 

 

Madison is out sick. 

When Steve gets into the office, the girl covering for Madison absently notes that _Steve_ looks sick, then the girl who works next to Madison raises her eyebrows, and by lunch, there's this rumor floating around that the boss' useless obnoxious kid is fucking the receptionist, and he gave her an actual _disease_ , or, like, a _baby_ , or _both_. 

Steve _knows_ , because Madison sends him a screenshot of someone asking her about it, adds on,  _lol did we hook up & i just forgot?_

_jfc sry i hav no idea what thats abt_ Steve replies. 

Madison's just like, _i only Dont fuck w boys like u bc i Kno From Experience rich white boys r allergic 2 condoms tbh its?? a fair enough assumption_

It's not _really_ fair, not to _Steve_ , who has been in a semi-serious relationship for _months_  now, but. 

_still im sry? feel better or whatever_

_'or whatever'_ Madison mocks. _tru romance! im just hungover lmao c u tomorrow_

Madison is one of the most _responsible_ people Steve knows, and she's skipping work for a fucking _hangover_?

It's the _morning after Halloween_.

_Everybody's_ hungover after Halloween.

It's no _excuse_.

Steve has never felt _so_ _betrayed_. 

 

 

 

 

Steve checks every few minutes, _all afternoon_ , and there's about a million likes on Max's Instagram photo, but only one comment, from Mike, that just reads,  _s6e5 ma(c)x and billy: White Trash_

It's _clearly_ some kinda awful offensive joke that Steve would have to, like, read  _several_ Reddit threads to understand, and he's obviously just _never_ gonna do that, but _still_. 

It's the _best_ thing Steve has _ever_ seen. 

 

 

 

 

Billy's in the kitchen, glaring at the dishes like they might wash themselves, if he just _waits_ long enough, but when Steve walks in, Billy smiles, presses a kiss against Steve's mouth, goes, "I fixed shit with Max today." 

"Okay?" 

"Like. I said I was _sorry_." 

Steve sorta feels like that's not enough to make up for breaking into Max's boyfriend's house and calling her a whore and bruising up her arm, but.

He doesn't really _get_ why Billy's even _telling_ him this, so.

" _Okay_?" 

"That's it? You don't have anything to fucking _say_ , except  _okay_?"

Steve shrugs. "Not _really_ , I mean. It's not my business, like you said, so."

Billy rolls his eyes, stays where he is by the fridge, until Steve reaches up into the cupboard to grab the pastel pink box of Strawberry Milkshake Pop-Tarts, when Billy grabs Steve around the waist, tugs him in close to whine, " _Baby_ , where the _hell's_  my motivation to be a nice guy if you _don't fucking care_ what I _do_?" 

"I think that's called _validation_ , not motivation." Steve pushes away from Billy, grabs the Pop-Tarts, eats half of one before he turns around and offers, "Most people just try to be nice, like. Just ' _cause_ , you know?" 

"Shit, are you _fucking_ with me? Like, that _can't_ be a real thing." 

Steve shrugs. 

"Look, I feel like _I_ heard a song called _Nice For What_ that was basically _life-changing_ , and _you're_ just _—_ "

" _Hargrove_ , you do _not_ like Drake more than _I_ like Drake. I would _die_ for Drake."

Billy rolls his eyes one more time, then sighs, "Is that _seriously_ what you're eating for dinner? Are you in  _kindergarten_?" 

Around a mouthful of fake strawberry cream, Steve's like, "I _love_ how you think my parents  _ever_ let me eat Pop-Tarts. You haven't _met_ those people. They're _fucked up_. They wouldn't let me have _Ritz crackers_." 

"What? _Why_?"

" _Babe_ ," Steve sighs. "I _still_ have _no idea_."

 

 

 

 

Billy drags Steve out for dinner. 

Steve's pretty sure the huge plates of nachos and quesadillas they share are, like, not _that_ much healthier than Pop-Tarts, but he doesn't really care enough to make it into a whole thing.  

It's _nice_ , going out with Billy, since they haven't been doing that, lately, and. 

Steve drinks two and a half Long Island Iced Teas, because their waitress is this girl Jessica, who used to have a _huge_ crush on Steve that he never really did anything about, so she's _still_  sorta got a thing for him, but she cards Billy, which is _hilarious_ , and is _totally_ Billy's own fault, because of how he slept with her back in senior year, and immediately told  _all_ the guys on the basketball team that she was a slut, so. 

Billy drinks the leftover half of the last Long Island Iced Tea right before they leave, and when they're walking down the street, heading back home, Billy stops to light a cigarette, licks his lips, tells Steve, "We should sleep together." 

"We _already_ do that." 

"I _mean_ , like. It's fucking _weird_ for us to have separate rooms in the _same_   _place_ , you know that? People don't _do_ that." 

" _We_ do that." 

" _Yeah_ , but if we rented out the other room, we would save a  _fuckton_ of money." 

"I think I'm doing okay on money," Steve shrugs. "Do _you_ need money? I could _—_ "

"Jesus, no, _look_ , I'm just. _Focus_ , okay?  _God_ , like, I'm _not_ saying you have to give up your tiny little room, King Steve, I'd _never_ fucking _dream_ of _—_ "

" _Good_ , 'cause I'm _not_ sleeping in _your_ room _—_ "

" _Harrington_ , I don't fucking _want_ you to," and Billy stops again, presses Steve up against a wall, and it _hurts_ , just because Steve's feeling kinda sore all over, even where he _doesn't_ have any cuts, which he _forgot_ was something that happens, so. _Yeah_ , everything  _hurts_ , but it doesn't really matter, because it's _so fucking cute_ when Billy goes, "I just want to _be_ with you some more."

"Okay." 

" _Okay_ ," Billy's like, slowly breaking into this soft smile. " _Okay_ , we should share a room, like _normal_ people, or, like. _Okay_ , you want to spend time with me?" 

He _doesn't_ want to share a room with Billy. 

Steve _likes_ having his room to himself. 

And, okay, this is fucked up, and it might not be _totally_ true, but. 

He feels like, in the end, Billy is going to want to keep _his_ room, _not_ Steve's, and he's probably going to act like he was _always_ going to let Steve keep his room, but then maybe Steve fucked up, so Billy's changing his mind because of _that_ , but Steve _already knows_  that Billy just doesn't like Steve's room, and _that's_ going to be the real reason.

He knows it  _now_ , but it might be hard to see it like that  _later_ , so. 

"I wanna spend more time with you."

Billy doesn't look angry or disappointed or even like he's feeling anything at all when he goes in for a quick kiss, tugs Steve away from the wall, starts them back down the street, like, " _Good_ , so. We'll do that." 

 

 

 

 

They _don't_ spend more time together, but. 

It's Steve's fault. 

He can't really fuck around with Billy, because he's got these red-pink marks all over his body, and most of the time, Billy likes fucking with the lights on, so it's not like Steve can just hope he won't notice.

There's this lotion that Steve remembers stealing from Carol that faded most of his scars in _days_ , last time, but it takes him a while to remember where to buy it, and then it takes him another two days to go down to the mall to pick some up, and _that's_ pretty embarrassing, because it turns out to be, like, _face moisturizer_ , so Steve spends, like, an _hour_ in the wrong section of Lush, trying to ignore the super persistent salesgirls asking him if he uses _natural haircare products_ , as if Steve is somebody who knows or even fucking  _cares_  about the probably toxic chemicals that are in his conditioner, so.  

The cuts are looking better and better by the day, but. 

Steve's not spending a lot of time with Billy.

 

 

 

 

It isn't Steve's turn for D&D carpool this week.

According to the email he got from Mrs Wheeler, it's not _actually_ gonna be his turn again until, like,  _next month_ , and.

Sure, they're not having sex, but Billy wants to spend more time with Steve, Billy wants to have dinner with Steve, Billy wants to share a fucking _bedroom_ with Steve, because Billy thinks they're cool, again, and. 

And Steve kinda just feels like things with him and Billy _aren't_ cool, at _all_. 

He catches himself feeling uncomfortable in their apartment a _lot_ , and he feels  _bad_  about it, so. 

Maybe it's not _smart_ to go back to avoiding Billy like his life depends on it, but. 

It's what Steve's doing, anyway. 

He covers carpooling for Mrs Wheeler, who gives him a big smile and a plate of cookies to take home with him, which he does, and Billy makes this annoyed face, growls, "I'm  _not_  taking that plate back to that _fucking_ house;  _you_  can do it," before Steve even tells him where it came from, so _that's_ weird, but also unexpectedly hilarious.

He covers carpooling for Ms Byers, who asks him if he's okay, like, a _hundred_ _times_ in the _two minutes_ that he talks to her on the phone, and then she does it _again_ during the three minutes he's hanging around her living room, waiting for Will to find a cardigan, and Steve _tries_ to be polite about the whole thing, but he just doesn't _get_ why it's _happening_ , because, yeah, fine, _whatever_ , he's  _not_  feeling so hot these days, _fine_ , but there's _no reason_ anybody's fucking  _mom_  should be checking in with him about it. 

His  _own_  mom isn't checking in with him.

Everybody else needs to just follow her example and leave him alone. 

 

 

 

 

Steve runs into Dustin's mom at the grocery store, _right after_ running into Billy, who was leaving after his shift, who looked fucking _exhausted_ , who caught Steve by the arm, and kissed his cheek, and asked,  _you want me to wait for you?_  

And Steve _said_ that he would be home soon, so he  _has_ to go home, so it makes _no_ fucking sense that he sees Ms Henderson, and puts up with a minute and a half of her talking enthusiastically about her knitting circle, before he just blurts out, "Um, you got carpool tonight, right? Just, 'cause, like. I could do it for you, if you want, like. I don't _mind_ , so."

But that was a fucking _stupid_ thing to say, because Billy wants to spend more time together, and Steve's been making that _really_ _hard_ for him, and he _just_ fucking _told_ Billy he would come home, and.

He _can't_ do carpool, but Ms Henderson doesn't take him up on the offer, anyway, just goes, in this weirdly serious voice, "Are you doing okay, Steve? We don't see you much anymore." 

What the hell does _that_ mean?

She's seeing Steve  _right the fuck now_. 

"Um, yeah, I'm okay. I might be getting a promotion at work, so, I'm just. Super busy." 

This is actually,  _conveniently_ , true. 

It's a fake promotion, just like it's a fake job, but he's been making minimum wage since he started, and this is an  _almost_  two-dollar raise, so. 

Obviously, it's a nepotism thing, because _nobody else_ doing Steve's job would _ever_ get a raise that high, and.

 _Especially_ because Dad  _only_  offered it to Steve because he wants Mom to stop transferring money into Steve's bank account whenever his balance drops below, like, fifty bucks, so. 

It's fake as _shit_ , except Steve didn't get where he is in life by _not_ bleeding his father dry at every available opportunity, so. 

 _Yeah_.

Steve's going to take the raise. 

Ms Henderson beams. "Oh, good for  _you_ , honey!" 

"Thanks." Steve doesn't know what to say next. He doesn't know why he's stuck in this conversation, in the first place. He wants to go home. He _has_ to go home. "Is Dustin doing okay?" 

"Oh, well,  _you_  know, he and Mike and Lucas had that  _horrible_  fight." Steve knows  _nothing_  about this, but as soon as he nods, like he _does_ know, she adds, "But he's  _finally_  starting to feel better about it, and that's really all you can hope for, isn't it?" 

 

 

 

 

When Steve gets home, Billy's done eating, but he sits down, anyway, and just _stares_  at Steve until he's finally gotta just be like, "Oh my God,  _what_?!" 

Billy shrugs. "Feel like I don't see you anymore."

Did Steve miss an actual fucking _memo_ , or something?

Why the hell does  _everyone_  want to have the  _same_   _conversation_ with him? 

"You're  _literally_  looking  _right_  at me." 

" _Yeah_ , babe," Billy rolls his eyes. "Except that's  _kind of_  just an expression, and that's not  _really_  what it means." 

Steve can't _take_ any more of this shit. 

He _can't_ do it.

"Why do you  _always_  gotta be like that?" 

"Like what?" 

"Like you  _want_  to make me feel stupid, or something." 

"I  _don't_  do that." 

"You're doing it  _right now_!" 

Billy gives him this completely blank stare when he goes, "I'm not doing  _anything_  right now." 

"You know,  _I_  don't do this to  _you_ ," Steve spits, and  _Jesus_ , he sounds like  _Billy_ , back when he was angry in the summer, after what happened at the Wheeler's house, snarling, _I shouldn't have to fucking say that_ , and,  _you fucking knew who I was and you fucking liked it_ , and  _I wouldn't expect that from you_. "I  _never_  give you shit about,  _whatever_ , like.  _You_  dropped out of school, and—"

" _Yeah_ , and then I got my GED  _right after_ , so how  _would_  you give me shit about that?  _Listen_ , if you're having a bad day, _whatever_ , I  _get_  it, but don't fucking take it out on  _me_ , alright? That's  _not_  fair; I'm  _not_  letting you do that." 

Steve's _not_ having a bad day.

He barely fucking remembers _anything_ that happened, today. 

He's not taking _anything_ out on Billy; he's just fucking _reacting_ to Billy being a _total asshole_. 

"Yeah, _right_ , but. Like. You're a  _dick_  to me,  _all_   _the time_ , and  _I_  let it go, and if I ever do, or say  _anything_ , and  _you_  don't like it, you  _never_  let it go, _and_ —"

"I don't  _like_  being treated like shit; if I  _did_ , I would've just fucking stayed at my dad's house." 

 _Steve_  should've just fucking stayed at  _his_  parents' house. 

It's not like they  _wanted_  him to move out. 

They barely even knew he was still living there. 

It would have been a lot better than this. 

He fucking  _hates_  this. 

Steve doesn't know what the hell Billy cooked for dinner, because Billy told him, but Steve was preoccupied with feeling dead and tired and nervous, so he wasn't really listening, but _whatever_ it is, it's got rice in it, and cooking rice takes lots of time and, like, _effort_ , so.

So, that was really great of Billy to do, except Steve hasn't really eaten any of it, so he's thinking _disrespectful_ and _ungrateful_ and _rude_  on a loop, when he's picking up his keys, heading for the door, announcing, "I'm going for a walk." 

"No, you're _not_. It's late, it's dark—"

"It's  _fucking_   _Indiana_ , and you're  _always_ saying nothing  _happens_  here—"

"People get hurt  _everywhere_ ," and Billy is right behind Steve, and one of his hands is planted against the front door, because: "You're staying _here_ , like I  _fucking_  said."

Steve thinks on that, for a long time.

Too long, maybe.

He turns around, leans back against the door, tries, "Can I go on the fire escape?" 

The fire escape is still potentially dangerous, but it is  _ultimately_  just an extension of the apartment, and it's too cold to stay out there for more than a minute or two, so.

If Billy says no, then it's not like he _actually_ wants Steve to be _safe_ , or whatever, like.

He's _just_ being an asshole because he fucking _can_ , right? 

And Billy is so much smarter than Steve is, so he probably _knows_ what Steve is doing, here, but.

Like it's  _not_  hilarious, like he's  _not_  someone who just put _actual physical effort_ into keeping Steve in their apartment, like it's  _not_  an obvious fucking  _lie_ , Billy sneers, "You don't have to fucking  _ask_  me shit; do whatever the hell you  _want_." 

 

 

 

 

It's _way_ too cold to be out on the fire escape, but Steve's wearing a cable knit sweater over a long-sleeved shirt, so he thinks he's got some time before Billy opens the window and starts talking to him about frostbite. 

He smokes three cigarettes, wishes he had brought his phone with him, but it was charging in his room, and. 

And there's music coming from inside the apartment, now, but it's music that Steve fucking  _knows_  Billy doesn't listen to, and. 

And Billy is in Steve's room. 

 

 

 

 

" _What_ are you doing?" 

Billy is sprawled out on Steve's bed, fucking around on Steve's laptop, wondering, "Why do you have a playlist with my name on it?" 

"I  _don't_."

" _Car_ , _Home_ , _Sleep_ , _Wake Up_ , _Nancy_ , _Billy_ , you know, these are  _not_  very inventive titles, but they  _are_  interesting, as far as song choices go—"

"You can't just _walk into my room—_ "

"Well, I  _can_  if the door's open, and it  _was_." 

That's not what Steve fucking  _meant_ , and Billy fucking  _knows_  it.

God.

He's _such_ a fucking asshole.

"Okay."

" _Okay_ ," Billy smiles. It's a  _really_  mean smile. Steve wants to fucking _kill_ him, like he wants to go back outside, like he wants to go home, but he _is_ home, he _lives_ here, there's nowhere to fucking _go_ , and. Billy's still smiling when he adds, "You still thinking about pretty little Nancy Wheeler?" 

"No." 

"No? Then,  _what_  is this?" 

It's a playlist full of songs about betrayal and loneliness and feeling fucking  _embarrassed_  because now _everybody_ _knows_ you're not good enough to keep anybody interested in you. 

That's  _obviously_  what it is. 

What the fuck is  _wrong_  with Billy? 

Like,  _seriously_ , what the fuck  _is_  wrong with him? 

They never talk about it, or anything, but Steve  _knows_ that Billy had a really hard time at home, when he was a kid, and that's _awful_ , of _course_ it is, but it's not like it's  _Steve's_  fault that it happened, and even if it somehow fucking  _was_ , he's pretty sure that wouldn't actually excuse Billy being  _such_  a fucking dick,  _all_  the fucking time. 

The song playing now is by the 1975, and it isn't really something Steve would usually like, but it was fucking  _perfect_  after Nancy split up with him, because it literally goes  _you're so conceited, I said that I loved you, what does it matter if I lied to you?_  

It's fast, and _unrepentantly_ mean, and.

It lasts for four and a half minutes, but Steve doesn't know if he can stand here for four and a half minutes, being reminded about how Nancy left him, and his only friends were little kids, so it made _sense_ to make a playlist like this, because Steve didn't really have anybody to _talk_ to, and.

 _Jesus_. 

Honestly, Steve barely even _remembers_  last February, March, April.

He remembers the songs on this playlist, he remembers seeing Billy at the store, he remembers being _alone_  all the time. 

" _Hey_ , you think Nancy fucked around on you 'cause you're bad in bed?"

"I'm not."

"You _kind of_ are." 

" _No_ , I'm _not_." 

"Okay, _sure_ ," and Billy smiles gently, like he's _not_ acting like a fucking monster, like a fucking _nightmare_ , like somebody who doesn't even fucking like Steve at _all_. "A little _boring_ , though, maybe, _right_?"

"I _know_ what you're doing," Steve snaps. "You _know_ that I'm not _that_ fucking stupid, right? Like, I fucking _know_ what you're doing." 

"Baby, I'm not doing _anything_." 

"You're trying to make me feel  _insecure_ , and that is _so_ —"

" _Hey_ , shoutout to your parents, and, like, the _entire_ Indiana public school system, and, _oh_ , yeah, Nancy  _fucking_ Wheeler, the patron saint of sluts and cheaters, 'cause I don't have to fucking _try_ , alright? You're _already_ insecure. It would be hard to find anybody who's _more_ insecure than you. _Like_ , I'd probably have to go to a _strip club_ , to find somebody like that, or, like. Shit, _I_ don't know, I'd have to go _online_ , you know? Real _effort_ , that's what I'm saying, like, I'd have to really fucking _try_." 

_The Sound_  ends, and the next song is Lorde's  _Liability_ , and Steve doesn't need to hear it to know that that one is going to make him cry, and Billy's probably going to laugh. 

Billy's eyebrows are raised, one side of his mouth is quirked up into a grin, like he's having _fun_ , like Steve being alone and hating everything about himself and wanting to die is just some _really_  entertaining shit, so. 

 _Yeah_.

Billy is going to laugh. 

He's halfway there already. 

Steve is still dressed and his keys are still in his pocket, and Billy _said_ not to leave, but Billy is a fucking  _asshole_ , and Steve fucking  _hates_  him, so Steve doesn't _have_ to do what he says, so.

He's out the door before he really knows what's going on.

 

 

 

 

Like nothing weird is happening, Dustin goes, "Hi, Steve." 

"Hey, man." Steve _gets_ that this is sorta crazy, but this _wasn't_ his first choice. The lights were on when he drove past his parents' house, and  _both_ of his parents' cars were in the driveway, and he _wasn't_ about to go in there and deal with  _that_ , but. After that, Steve didn't really have a lot of other  _options_ , so. "So, listen, um. I can, like. Make it up to you? I can buy you guys some beer, or whatever, like. Just, you know. Is it cool if I hang out here?" 

Mike and Lucas are raising their eyebrows at each other, and Max is doing something on her phone, and Mike's girlfriend, who Steve knows nothing about, like, _Christ_ , he can't even remember her fucking  _name_ , even though he  _knows_  he's heard it, like, a _million_ times, by now, looks _worried_ , or something, even though she _doesn't know what's going on_ , which is.

A lot. 

Kids are a  _lot_. 

Dustin just moves out of Steve's way, lets Steve climb through his bedroom window, sighs, "You are too  _big_  to use  _windows_  like they are  _doors_ , Steve Harrington," and then bullies everyone back into playing D&D, or whatever they were doing earlier. 

Dustin is  _so_  great. 

 

 

 

 

He doesn't buy anyone any beer, but only because everyone looks at him _pretty_ judgmentally when he offers again, except for Will, who says, sounding _totally_ apologetic about it, like he thinks Steve _actually_ _cares_ , "I got a family history of alcoholism." 

"Man, you should just, like.  _Not_ let that hold you back in life." 

Because he's the _worst_ , Dustin hisses, " _Steve_ , oh my _God_." 

Steve's about to scowl at him and say something mean in response, but Max says, then, " _I_ could go for a beer." 

"You _should_ let your family history of alcoholism hold you back," says Steve, who is _still_ aware that Billy and Max don't share any DNA, but, like.

Somehow, they really  _are_  almost the same person, anyway?

They even _look alike_ , a little bit, sometimes, so. 

He just doesn't think the kid should be taking any chances. 

She informs him, "It's _real_ gross to act like my dad's an alcoholic when you don't know _anything about him_." 

" _Well_ , Maxine, _I heard_ , like. Your dad got _trashed_ at Easter, one time, and accused your mom of cheating on him, in front of _everybody_ , in the _middle_ of mass?" 

" _Yeah_ , Steven, but Mom _was_ cheating on him, and it was fucking _Christmas_ , and  _everybody_ is drunk at _Christmas service_." 

"That _doesn't_ sound very true." 

" _You_ don't sound very Catholic," Max shrugs. "How do you even  _identify_ , like. What do you even  _do_?" 

Steve narrows his eyes. "I _don't_ willingly sit in a room full of drunk assholes who only have, like,  _vague_ ties to the entire fucking _island_ of Ireland, once every six weeks, just 'cause somebody decided to throw a bunch of bullshit holidays into the Bible, like, _forever ago_." 

Lucas goes, "I _don't_ think Ireland's an island."

Will nods. "It's a _nation_ , right?"

Mike shakes his head. "Uh, _yeah_ , but, _no_ , because there's _two_ Irelands.  _One_ is, like, _in_ England, and then. _One's_  just for the people who didn't side with England during the war."

As always, nobody points out that they have _no_ fucking idea what the _fuck_ Mike's talking about, or that Mike's possibly probably _definitely_ a liar who is making things up because he wants to look smart in front of a girl who he _doesn't_ need to impress, because he _already_ conned her into going out with him, so Steve starts to lose faith in the whole _group_ of them, and. 

Mike's girlfriend looks bored as shit when she declares, "Ireland _is_ an island." 

"Don't encourage Steve," Mike's like. "He, like, _never_ shuts up, after you do that." 

"So?" Mike's girlfriend shrugs, rolls her eyes at Steve, goes, "I know a _really_ funny joke about Catholics, but Jim says, like, _not_ to tell it in front of girls, _or_ Catholics, and Max is _both_." 

Steve doesn't know who Jim _is_ , or why it _matters_ what he fucking _thinks_ , but he glances at Max, who is glaring at him even _harder_ than Billy was, earlier, which is _saying something_. 

"Wanna grab my number from somebody and text it to me?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, Random New Girl."

"My name's _Eleven_."

 _Yeah_ , well.

Steve feels _bad_ about it, and everything, but.

 _Jesus_.

"I'm. I'm _not_ gonna remember that, though, you know?"

 

 

 

 

Steve wakes up, and Dustin's room is pretty dark, and just about everybody's gone, but Dustin is sitting at his desk, messing around on Discord, and he glances at Steve, like, "Billy came over, but my mom said you weren't here, so he left." 

"Cool. Thanks."

"She didn't  _know_  you were here. I mean, she  _doesn't_  know, 'cause she went to sleep." Dustin turns in his dumb spinny chair, looks at Steve for a _long_ time, before he wants to know, "Are you  _okay_?" 

"I'm just tired."

"You're  _always_  tired, Steve. You should see a psychiatrist. Like,  _honestly_ , I didn't think  _I_  needed one, I was just like,  _God_ , come  _on_ , like I don't already take  _enough_  vitamins?! But, then I went, and I felt a  _lot_  better!" 

"Okay—"

"I'm just  _saying—_ "

"Man,  _don't_  do this to me—"

"You should  _think_  about it!" 

" _Okay_!" Steve lies, "I'll  _think_  about it." 

Dustin asks, sounding like Steve usually sounds when one of the kids fucks up and Steve has to run damage control, "Where the hell's your _car_? Like, Billy didn't see it, so. Where did you _park_?" 

"Out by the train tracks?" 

"You are  _so_   _dumb_ , Steve." Dustin puts his desktop to Sleep, stands up, sighing, "It is  _dangerous_  out there, oh my  _God_."

 

 

 

 

Dustin's too young, but he  _does_  know how to drive, but  _only_  because  _Steve_  fucking taught him how, last fall, so. 

It's _embarrassing_ , but Dustin's being a  _really_  good sport about this whole thing, and he _begs_ Steve to let him drive, so.

Steve lets Dustin drive him to his car, gets out of Dustin's mom's car, follows Dustin home to make sure he doesn't crash and die.

He thinks about finding somewhere else to go, but it's late, so he figures Billy's probably asleep, or whatever, _anyway_ , except.  

He opens their front door, and Billy is watching some old episode of  _Criminal Minds_ , looking annoyed, going, "Hey, no,  _stop_ ," so. Steve stops, and waits, and Billy gets up, crosses his arms, demands, "What the _hell_ is wrong with you? You left your phone here, do you know that? I've been freaking out  _all_  fucking night." 

That doesn't sound very different to any _other_ night, but Steve still lies, "Sorry." 

"Where the fuck  _were_  you?" 

"Just out." 

"But I told you  _not_  to go out, right? I mean, do you  _remember_  that? It  _just_  happened."

"You. I mean. You were being really mean to me." 

"Oh,  _no_ , I'm so  _sorry_ , baby!  _Jesus_ , I was being  _mean_?" Billy laughs, shakes his head, wonders, "What  _are_  you, _four years old_?"

"I'm going to bed," Steve's like, and it's  _shocking_  when Billy just steps to the side, lets him go, and. Then, it's _not_ shocking, anymore, or. Not for the same _reason_. "What the  _fuck_?" 

"What?" 

" _What_ ," Steve repeats, staring at his door. It's closed. It's _closed_ , but. Steve can still see into his room. He can _see into his fucking room_ , because the doorknob's not _actually_ attached to the door, anymore. "What. I don't. You took the fucking  _lock_  off my fucking  _door_?"

"Is that what it looks like?" 

" _Yes_!"

"Then I  _guess_  that's what happened," Billy shrugs. " _Wild_. I don't know anything about that." 

Steve is going to fucking  _scream_.

"I can't  _sleep_  if my  _door_  doesn't fucking lock!" 

"Well, _shit_ , that sounds like a real bummer, for you." 

Billy's sitting back down, watching dumb actors solving dumb fake crimes, acting _super_ casual, like he's  _not_  behaving like a fucking _psychopath_ , like. 

Billy said, in the summer,  _when I'm mad, I break things_ , but that's not  _fair_ , but he's just going to act like  _Steve's_  the one who did something wrong, again, if Steve says anything else about it, isn't he?

That's what would happen, so it's not worth it, but.

 _Fuck_.

It's not  _fair_. 

 

 

 

 

Dustin doesn't know, because  _nobody_  really knows, but Steve's  _seen_  a fucking psychiatrist. 

Not for a long time, but he still has some of his meds, and some of them are probably still in his old room, at his parents' place, but there's some in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, here, and there's some in this emptied-out bottle of multivitamins that are this brand that Billy won't go near because some random gym bro told him they were a bad vibe, or something, and there's some in Steve's room, too. 

Steve doesn't really like taking them, but he can almost always sleep if he's on them, so. 

He takes four, which is _maybe_ a few too many, but his _door_ isn't going to _lock_ , and.

Yeah.

He takes four pills. 

 

 

 

 

It's early in the morning, and Steve's laptop is open on iTunes again, and Billy is sitting up on Steve's bed, going, "I have _never_ heard this song in my  _life_."

"So?" 

" _So_ , this says  _Wake Up_.  Do you listen to this in the morning?" 

"Yep." 

"What, you do it  _every day_?" 

"Mostly. I wear headphones." 

"Wow." Billy looks  _genuinely_  shocked. After a beat of silence, he adds, "Well, that's considerate of you."

It  _definitely_  is. 

This song is on Steve's morning playlist, like,  _three_ different times, and it's  _really_  good, but it  _totally_  has the potential to be the single most annoying song in the world. 

After Marina Diamandis goes,  _and I'm sad to the core, every day is a chore_ , Billy sighs, " _Harrington_ , it's, like. _Cute_ how you think you have real problems, but it's primarily just fucking _alarming_."

Steve doesn't know what the fuck Billy _wants_. 

It's _Steve's_ playlist.

It's not _supposed_ to be shit that _Billy_ likes.

"You can put something else on, you. You can do whatever you want." 

"What, you're not getting up, today?" Steve shrugs, and Billy rolls his eyes, switches over to the Billy playlist, snaps, "Hey, yo, why the _fuck_ is  _Gold Digger_  on here?" 

"That's a  _real_  mystery. Hey, yo,  _why_  do you sneak half my rent money back into my account every month?"

"There's  _no_   _way_  you knew about that, until, like,  _last week_ , or you _already_ would've bitched about it." 

"Yeah, um. _No_ , it's just 'cause of that time when you were, like,  _super_ fucked up, and you still, like,  _magically_  knew every line of that part where he's like  _your girl's walking around looking like Michael Jackson with your money—_ "

"That verse is a  _classic_ , and Kanye deserved a fucking  _award_."

"I'm pretty sure he won, like, a  _million_  awards for that  _dumb_  song, so settle down." 

" _Whatever_ , that song's an  _anthem_." 

"An  _anthem_? An anthem for  _who_? For assholes who don't wanna pay child support?"

"Why  _should_  you if it's  _not_  your kid, that's the whole  _point_  of the—"

Steve sits up, stretches, goes, "I guess I just feel like. If you  _think_  it could be your kid, it's 'cause you were riding bareback, and, like, you didn't  _have_  to do that, right? So, like. I don't know, I kinda think if you're _ever_ fucking anybody without a condom, like. You kinda  _owe_  them some money." 

"Okay, you're talking about  _prostitution_. Like, just to be  _clear_ , sweetheart, that's a system that  _exists_ , and it is a  _very_  bad vibe." 

 

 

 

 

Billy gets up to have a shower before work, so.

Steve gets up, takes two more pills, gets right back in bed.

The pills aren't really working, though.

He _still_ feels fucked-up.

_Sure_ , it's a little easier to close his eyes, again, but. 

Billy's not in here, anymore, so.

Maybe that's why. 

Steve feels like he's dreaming, but he _knows_ he's not, but that's better than feeling like he's fucking _dead_ and knowing he's not, so.

He stays in bed, listens to the shower running, thinks about how he's probably dehydrated, and suddenly Billy's leaning over him, saying, _I'll be back later_ , and  _come give me a kiss_ , and  _see you tonight_. 

And as _soon_ as he hears the front door close behind Billy, Steve starts to feel sick, again, that terrified-nauseous-dead sorta sick, so. 

_What_ , like, he just  _can't_  be in his room anymore, _ever_? 

_Great_. 

 

 

 

 

"If it isn't  _King Steve_ ," Billy's like, sounding quiet and faraway and not even real. Maybe he's not. Maybe Steve's having a dream. Didn't Billy _just_ leave? "Why am I being graced with your presence?" 

"My door can't  _lock_ ," Steve mumbles into Billy's pillow. "You _broke_ my fucking  _door_." 

Billy gets in bed, puts his head down next to Steve's, and then he sits right back up. "Have you been  _crying_ in here?"

Steve lies, " _No_." 

Everything is quiet, for a minute or two, until Billy gets a hand in Steve's hair, asks softly, "You think Daddy  _likes_  it when you lie, or do you think Daddy  _hates_  it?" 

What Steve fucking  _thinks_  is, if Billy found out how much Steve wants to fucking  _kill_  him, most of the time, he  _probably_  wouldn't talk to him the way he does,  _all the fucking time_ , like he  _really_  believes Steve's an exceptionally dumb little kid, so. 

All Steve has to do is fucking  _tell_  him, right? 

He could _do_ that. 

That would be _easy_.

But he keeps his mouth shut, and eventually, Billy leaves.

Steve doesn't know why, but he also doesn't really _care_ , but then.

Billy's back, and he's doing something over by the dresser, and then Steve hears him lock his door, and get back in bed, and it's _quiet_ , but that's _definitely_ that stupid fucking piano version of  _Swimming Pools_  starting to play, so. 

"Thanks." 

 

 

 

 

Steve wakes up in Billy's bed, and he almost _definitely_ didn't have a nightmare, and his sleep playlist is still playing, all _can't you see that I'm getting bored? I'm giving you every piece of me_ , and he _likes_ that song, that one doesn't ever really upset him, _Bored_ , so he doesn't know why the fuck he's awake until he hears the shower start running. 

Billy didn't _have_ to take care of him like that, but he _did_ , and.

Steve is grateful, he _really_ is, but.

He doesn't want to talk to Billy, because he's pretty sure Billy's going to freak him out, or be really awful again, or.

Or _something_ , so. 

Steve slips into one of Billy's hoodies, doesn't stop to mess with his hair, only _just_ remembers to pick up his phone before he slips out the front door. 

 

 

 

 

Dad's not there, but Mom's at home, standing in the walk-in closet in her room, scowling at a bunch of shoes, like, "Black, or charcoal?"

Steve is pretty sure charcoal and black are actually the _same exact color_ , so he _almost_ can't really believe this is happening, but. 

It's happened _before_ , so he _definitely_ can. 

"Charcoal." 

Mom pulls a pair of heels out of their spot on the wall, walks back into her room, where Steve's lying down, feeling drained and stoned and annoyed.

"Are you _alright_ , Steven?" 

If Steve was _alright_ , he wouldn't have just come over, uninvited and unwanted, at fuck o'clock in the morning.

"I'm fine." 

Mom wants to know, "Will you zip this for me?"

Steve crawls down to the end of the bed, zips up Mom's dress, listens to her telling him, "There's some tiramisu downstairs, from that little place you like, in Indianapolis." 

Steve _does_ like Amalfi, and he's feeling sorta betrayed that Mom went there _without_ him, but.

He doesn't fucking _like_ tiramisu. 

He's _never_ fucking liked tiramisu.

And, like, not to be dramatic, but  _Steve_ knows what _Mom_ likes, and he barely ever even _sees_ her, so why doesn't _she_ know what _he_ likes?

They've known each other for _twenty fucking years_. 

"Cool. Thanks."

Mom cups his face, and her nails tap just a _little_ too sharply against his chin when she informs him, like maybe there's a way he doesn't already fucking _know_ , "You look tired." 

"I'm not."

" _That_ must be nice, but you _look_ tired. Do you want to try some of my moisturizer?"

"No, thanks, I, uh. I actually just bought a real good moisturizer the other day."

" _Oh_ , so you _are_ my son," Mom's like, dryly, so. Steve rolls his eyes, and they go downstairs and into the kitchen, where Mom starts pulling vegetables out of the fridge, and Steve wasn't totally sure that Mom even knew where the fridge _was_ , so it's weirdly captivating until she asks, "Is there a _gym_ in your complex? Are you... _working out_?" 

_Okay_ , there _is_ a gym, but Billy checked it out when they moved in, and he said it was lame.

Also, Steve is just _never_ going to care about his own physical health enough to go to the fucking _gym_ , not even if it's conveniently located in his own building. 

Gym culture is _insane_ , and Steve _refuses_ to support it, no matter _how_ good Billy's muscles look, so.

So, Steve sneers, " _Gross_ , come on, _no_." 

" _Right_. And. Do you need some money?" 

"Mom, _no_ , what the hell?" 

"You look _very_ thin. You're _sure_ it's not on purpose?"

"You're _crazy_. I _look_ like I _always look—_ "

"Was that sweatshirt _always_ so big on you?"

"It's _not_ my fucking hoodie, okay?! It's _Billy's_ , I _borrowed_ it, _Jesus_ , can you just—"

"Is Billy _really_ that much bigger than you? Isn't he your age? Is that _normal_?"

"Am I _normal-looking_?! My _mother_ wants to know if I _look normal_ , at _five AM_ , like that's _not_ —"

" _Don't_ get hysterical," Mom's like, rolling her eyes, like she just  _doesn't know_ that the only thing guaranteed to make Steve hysterical is being told _not_ to be hysterical. "Have you seen Dr Rothman, lately?"

"I'm _twenty_ , and you wanna know if I've _seen my pediatrician,_ so he can _decide if I look like a normal fucking person_?!"

"You can never _tell_ with boys, _I_ don't know! You could've been a _girl_ , and made my life _easy_!"

Steve's pretty sure he was never, like, in a position to _control_ that.

" _Okay_ , Mom."

"And _Steven_! Twenty years, _two decades_ , and I am _still_ annoyed about that name, can you _believe_ that?" 

Is she _joking_?

Yes, _one hundred percent_ , Steve can _absolutely_ fucking believe that, _yes_.

"Nah, you're not usually, like. _Petty_ , so."

Mom scowls. "It was such a _desperate_ attempt to salvage things with your grandpa, and it didn't even _work_. I mean, he adored _you_ , of _course_ , thank _God_ , but he only left your father _half_ of what he thought he would, when he passed, and, you know,  _ever since_ I was a little girl, I _always_ thought I would name my firstborn  _Francesca_ —"

It is _five_ in the _morning_.

" _God_ , Mom, I know, okay? I _know_."

"I really should have just put it in the prenup."

"Can you even _do_ that?"

"You can put _anything_ in a prenup." Mom starts looking at Steve strangely, again. "Do you know _how_ to buy groceries?" 

" _Oh my God_!" 

"You _can't_ just live off of Pringles and ice cream, Steven, or you'll get _sick_. There are _services_  for this, you know."

Steve's almost _totally_ sure he hasn't eaten a Pringle since, like, _elementary school_ , so.

"God,  _Mom_ — _"_

"It's nothing _wild_ , there's _no need_ to act like I'm suggesting that you join a _cult_ —"

"I _swear_ , if it would get me _outta_ this fucking kitchen, I would fucking _love_ to join a—"

"It's just licensed nutritionists who _talk_ to you, come up with a plan, _shop_ for you," and Mom sighs, makes an annoyed face, like maybe she thinks Steve's _not_ listening, or something, even though he definitely fucking _is_ , like. He doesn't _want_ to be stuck listening to yet another fucking person tell him about how he doesn't know how to _buy his own fucking food_ , okay? It's _mean_ , and it's _bullshit_ , and. Here he fucking is, _anyway_. "I'll get you someone's card, how about that? You can just _call_ , and they'll set it all up for you." 

" _Sure_." Steve would rather _die_ than call up some random stranger and ask them to go _grocery shopping_ for him, like, he would rather die in a _really_ embarrassing way, even, but. _Fine_. Whatever. He can take a fucking _business card_. Maybe his mother never lets go of a grudge, but Steve knows that she will _definitely_ forget all about giving him some random phone number after, like, an _hour_ , anyway, so. "Yeah, get me somebody's card. Thanks." 

 

 

 

 

When he's done rescuing the last anxiety pills from his old room, Steve goes home, throws away the tiramisu, passes out.

He wakes up to Billy, with his dumb green gym towel thrown over his shoulder, tugging on Steve's hair, sitting down on the bed, like, " _Hey_ , baby."   
  
"Hey."   
  
"You're sleeping a lot, lately, aren't you?"  
  
"I don't know. Not really."   
  
"I had to stock some of that dumb ice cream you used to be, like, _obsessed_ with, and I, uh. I thought about you a _lot_ , today."

Steve _knows_ he's supposed to say, _what did you think about_ , or something, but.

If he does that, Billy's answer is just going to be something mean or scary or gross, so.   
  
"Thanks."

It seems like Billy is waiting for something, but Steve doesn't know what it _is_ , and.

He doesn't really _care_ , so. 

"I'm going to the gym. You want me to get you something, when I come back?" 

 

 

 

 

Steve wakes up on the couch, even though he definitely _didn't_ fall asleep on the couch, so. 

He looks around, but the room is quiet and empty and mostly dark, except for where the screen of Billy's phone is lit up, quietly playing Khalid's  _Location_  on repeat, like  _this is new to me, this is new to you, initially, I didn't wanna fall for you_ , so. 

Steve calls, "Hey?" 

" _Hey_ ," Billy's like, quickly coming out of the kitchen, scowling, falling down into the armchair. "What's up?" 

"Nothing?What's up with you?" 

" _Nothing_." 

"...okay? Then,  _why_ are you being all weird?" 

Billy snaps, "I'm _not_ being _weird_ , Harrington, Christ, _shut up_." 

Steve rolls his eyes. "Hey, did you, like. _Carry_ me in here, 'cause I _don't_ approve of being _carried_ , okay, that's a _bad_ _vibe_ , and I'm _not_ here for it."

" _Hey_ , yo, you are, like, _deceptively_ heavy, okay? If _anybody's_ not here for me carrying you around, it's _me_ ; I'm fucking  _exhausted_." 

 

 

 

 

An hour later, they're watching _The Joel McHale Show with Joel McHale_ , and they're not really talking, not even about how it's _super dumb_ that _The Soup_ got canceled and some genius _immediately_ decided to just give Joel McHale the _same exact show_ , except on Netflix, and.

"You still upset about the door?" 

How is that a real fucking  _question_?

Of _course_ Steve is still upset about the door.

He shakes his head. 

" _Jesus_ , so. You're _seriously_ not even fucking _trying_ , anymore?" 

Steve doesn't know what that _means_ , and he feels too fucking _dead_ to figure it out by himself, so. 

"I'm not trying _what_?" 

Billy sighs, gets off of the armchair, gets an arm around Steve once he settles down on the couch. 

Joel McHale makes another mean joke about some dumb TV show, and Billy kisses Steve's hair, like, "You want me to fix your door?"

_Yeah_ , of _course_ Steve wants Billy to fix the fucking door, he wants it a _lot_ , but there's a _reason_ he didn't just do it himself, or, like, hire somebody to come do it for him.

Now that Billy's already fucked with Steve's door _once_ , he could always do it _again_ , so. 

There's not really a _point_ to fixing it.

Steve shakes his head, and Billy smiles at him, like.

Like, it's not a _mean_ smile, or a _judgmental_ smile, it's just a _real_ smile, so.

_No_ was probably the right answer. 

Suddenly, Billy's up again, doing something in the kitchen, calling out, "I fucking _made_ this, so, if it's bad, _that's_ why, but you _still_ have to eat it, or I'm  _never_  talking to you again." 

Steve's not really gonna _say_ _so_ , but as he turns to watch Billy come back in from the kitchen, he's just thinking that Billy is _probably_ overestimating how much Steve actually  _enjoys_ talking to him.

"What is that, a  _cake_?"

Billy scowls. " _No_ , are you fucking _blind_ , Harrington? It's a  _pie_."

Steve tries, "What's the joke?" 

"What?" 

"Like. Did you, like. _Come_ in it, or something?" 

" _Harrington_ ," Billy snarls, looking _beyond_ offended. "I _swear to God—"_

"No, okay, _seriously_ , um. Cool? What kind is it, like. Is that sugar cream?" 

" _Yeah_." 

"Hey," Steve yawns. "That's my  _favorite_." 

"Yeah, well, it only needs, like,  _three ingredients_ , and _no_ energy, or I would've made something else, like. A little _less_ Midwestern and gross."

It _is_ basically just sugar and milk and vanilla extract.

Steve doesn't  _care_. 

It still takes, like,  _forty-five minutes_  to bake a pie, right? 

Who the fuck  _else_ is  _ever_ going to spend forty-five minutes making Steve  _anything_? 

He thinks about what Billy likes, thinks about what he should do for Billy, what he should _say_ for him, because.

If Steve said, like, _thank you, Daddy_ , Billy would be _so_ into it.

It wouldn't _hurt_ , and it would _only_ take a couple seconds, so.

So, it would be _gross_ , yeah, _fine_ , but he would get over it pretty quick. 

Steve takes the fork Billy hands him, stares down at this _huge_ slice of pie that _is_ his favorite, that he _knows_ Billy made just for him.

He doesn't want to eat it. 

He kinda just wants a door that locks, so he can go to bed alone, and stop having to act like he's somebody who actually _cares_ about all of Billy's dumb mood swings. 

Who the hell makes somebody a _pie_? 

What _year_ does Billy think it is?

"You know you can _buy_ these, right? Like, you didn't have to _bake_ it, you. You could've just bought one. There's this place, Wick's, and—"

"Okay, _hey_ , I don't know why the hell this is _surprising_ me, but you're missing the _entire fucking point_ of—"

"Thanks for cooking for me," Steve says, licking some vanilla custard off his fork. It is actually  _annoyingly_ good. Billy is the fucking _worst_. Steve just wants to be _mad_ at him. Doesn't Billy _get_ that? "You're the best." 

Billy gets back on the couch, and he's _still_ glaring suspiciously at Steve, but _Steve_ is still too dead for this shit, so. 

He slumps right back down against Billy's chest, smacks a kiss against his collarbone, hums, " _God_. You are _so_ fucking cute. _Pie_. What, you trying to get _laid_ , or something?" 

"Nah, not tonight, baby," Billy's like. "I have a headache." 

This is somehow the funniest thing Steve has _ever_ heard, so he doesn't mind sitting up straight, pressing a kiss against Billy's mouth, grinning, "The housewife routine looks _good_ on you, Hargrove."

And Steve's more-or-less  _expecting_  Billy to scowl and shove him away, but he  _doesn't_  expect Billy to reach out almost instantly to stop Steve from falling off the couch, so.

Steve bites down on his lip as he listens to Billy hissing, "I am  _never_  baking you  _anything_  again, Harrington. Jesus, I  _swear_ , this was, like. The  _single_  most thankless experience of my  _literal_   _entire life_."  

"Okay." 

"I fucking _hate_ you."

"Okay." 

"Next time I start thinking about being _nice_ to you, I'm gonna _remember_ this, and just _not_ do it." 

" _Okay_!" Steve laughs, kisses Billy again, says, " _Thanks_ , though." 

 

 

 

 

Billy gets a call _crazy early_ on Monday morning, asking if he'll cover a shift at the store at, like, _six_ , so. 

Steve is standing around the kitchen, feeling dead, again, eating pie with his eyes closed while Billy rushes around the apartment, trying to get dressed on time, until. 

Until Billy stops, suddenly, wraps both of his arms around Steve, pushes his face in against Steve's neck when he tells him, "You are going to get sick and die." 

"Yeah, probably _not_ , though, right?" 

"You want to _listen_ to me, King Steve, 'cause I read, like, _five_ different things before I made that fucking pie, and they _all_ told me it would go bad after, like, a  _day_ , so I don't know what the _fuck_ you think _—_ "

" _Billy_ , I know you're _new_ to this, and everything, but nobody ever got _sick_  from eating _pie_." 

" _Goddamn_ , you are _so_ fucking," and, sure, Steve can _guess_ , but he doesn't  _know_ what exactly Billy thinks he is, because that's when Billy stops, sighs, sinks his teeth down into Steve's shoulder, which fucking _hurts_ , but. Billy doesn't finish his thought, just goes, "Yo, I'd kiss you, but your mouth's, like, _basically_ a death virus Petri dish, so. I'm going to work."

"Could you grab me some sleep pills before you come home? I keep forgetting about it."

Billy pauses in the doorway, gives Steve this really confusing look for at least a whole minute, then shrugs. "I'm late. I'll text you." 

 

 

 

 

_cherry vanilla vs mango berry?_

Steve texts back, _berry sounds ominous_

_yeah_ Billy replies. _and define ominous?_

_fuck yrself_

Billy sends Steve a selfie that's just him smugly grinning in the medicine aisle at the store, because he's the _only_ person who could _ever_ be smug about buying that kinda cough syrup that's actually just for sleeping. 

_Christ_.

Steve hates him a _lot_. 

 

 

 

 

Steve starts to get up for work, but then Billy wraps his arms around Steve, tugs him back to bed, yawning, "Let me holler at you for a second."

"Man, do people even  _say_ that in real life?"

Billy bites out, " _Yes_ , asshole." 

"Like who?"

"Like _me_ , okay? _Jesus_ , why are you always riding me so goddamn hard?" Steve thinks of four different jokes about how Billy usually _appreciates_ being ridden hard, keeps them _all_ to himself, waits for Billy to finish, " _Look_ , Max says there's some Thanksgiving thing at that kid Will's house, and, like, _apparently_ , there'll be pie, so." 

Steve has no idea why that should _matter_ , unless Billy thinks Steve just  _loves_ pie, now, or something, which.

_God_ , that's  _not_ true, and if this turns into a _thing_ , like Mom's tiramisu thing, Steve is going to _scream_. 

"Um. If _you_ wanna go, we can go?" 

"I definitely don't _want_ to go, but Max says the brats keep texting you about it and you're not answering."

"My phone's been weird, lately, I'm, like. _Not_ getting notifications," Steve lies, shifts away from Billy, changes the subject as Billy sits up against the headboard, because Billy looks _real good_ , and anyway, it's been a while, so. "You got time to fuck me?" 

It wasn't even supposed to be a _real question_ , because Steve's pretty sure Billy doesn't have to be at work for a few more hours.

Still, Billy hums, "Not _really_."

And it's fucking _gross_ , but Steve thinks about it again, thinks about crawling into Billy's lap, calling him  _Daddy_ , because.

That's the only way he _knows_ he can get Billy to do what he wants.

His cuts are mostly okay.

Billy hasn't noticed them yet, so he probably won't  _ever_ , and, anyway, it's _early_ , so it's still pretty dark in Billy's room. 

"I could suck—"

It's not, like, _unheard_ _of_  for Billy to do this, it's just that it's  _not_ what Steve's expecting him to say, when Billy's like, " _I_ could open you up, eat that sweet little ass until you're crying, _begging_ me for it, like a—"

Yeah, _no_ , Steve just  _doesn't_ want to know _what_ Billy thinks he sounds like when he's getting fucked.

There was this one time back in senior year when Steve was up late at night, and, out of nowhere, he got this long typo-ridden _essay_ of an obviously-drunk mostly-anonymous message.

Billy's never mentioned it, so Steve hasn't, either, but he remembers that it was full of all the same sorta stuff Billy usually likes to say in bed.

Steve honestly can't remember why the hell he decided to finish reading a text that started out,  _bby ur so hoti watn 2 get you screamign 4 me_

He _did_ read it, though, and. 

It _really_ freaked him out, at the time, but a _lot_ of things Billy used to do really freaked Steve out. 

Steve just doesn't get the _point_ of talking about sex for forever?

It feels like a waste of time. 

" _Okay_ , so, you're saying _no_?" 

" _Jesus_ , I'm saying _later_ ," and Billy shakes his head, kisses Steve, tugs on his hair as he says, " _Stop_ acting like you're only into me for sex." 

It's mostly a lie, but Steve still shrugs, "My man, I _am_ only into you for sex." 

"King Steve, you better goddamn _know_ , you sound _an awful lot_ like somebody who doesn't _actually_ want to get it in, tonight."  

 

 

 

 

Billy says holiday pay is the only reason he hasn't quit his job yet, so.

He's busy for most of the day, but Billy shows up at the Byers' place after work with four tins of pumpkin pie in his hands. 

Steve has spent the past few hours stuck on the Byers' couch between Nancy and Jonathan, who are both unexpectedly home for Thanksgiving, which was _almost_ unbearable, at the beginning of the afternoon, when Steve first got to the Byers' house, but then he snuck outside, got a little stoned, and came back in, and he's been feeling alright ever since, so he smiles at Billy from across the room, and. 

Billy smiles back, a small tired  _genuine_ smile, but then he sees Nancy, and the look on his face darkens _real_ fast. 

 

 

 

 

They're still waiting for Ms Byers' boyfriend to come over, so no one's eating yet when the music video for that NF song that was all over the radio, earlier this year,  _Let You Down_ , comes on TV, and Billy slips outside, just because he fucking  _hates_  that song.

Steve remembers saying he didn't know how anybody could ever  _really_  hate Christian rap music, and Max said  _he doesn't hate it, he's just triggered by it_ , and then Billy shut the whole conversation down by snapping,  _triggering isn't a real thing, Maxine, it's just something people fucking made up on the Internet_ , but. 

Steve's pretty sure it  _is_  a real thing, and it makes sense that somebody like Billy would be triggered by something like that, but Billy's never talked to him about it, so. 

It's not like Steve's going to bring it up. 

He waits a few seconds, follows Billy outside, where Billy's not smoking, or fucking around with his vape pen, or his phone, or anything. 

He's just standing there  _waiting_  for Steve, so.

"So,  _what's_  up with you flexing on your ex all night, like I'm not  _right fucking here_?" 

Steve rolls his eyes. "We were  _talking_." 

" _Yeah_ , I didn't say you  _weren't_  fucking talking, _princess_ ; I just asked  _why_  you were fucking _doing_ it." 

It's muffled by the walls of the house, a little, and by how loud everyone is being inside, but Steve still hears it when NF raps  _you don't want to make this work, you just want to make this worse_ , and. 

"Look, _babe_ , I don't. I don't know what you want me to  _say—_ "

"I  _want_ you to tell me the fucking  _truth_." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. " _Okay_. You wanna clue me in on what exactly you think the truth fucking  _is_? You're acting like a  _psycho_ , even though I, like, fucking  _told_  you, we were  _just_   _talking_." 

Billy looks at something over Steve's shoulder, looks down at his own shoes, laughs.

Steve decides, "I'm going back inside," and then he does, but he doesn't join everybody in the living room.

He locks himself into the bathroom, takes a bunch of slow deep breaths, thinks about killing himself, even though, _Jesus_ , he's in the Byers' semi-gross bathroom that probably hasn't been updated since, like, _the 1940s_ , and then, somebody knocks on the door, and Steve doesn't know what to do.

He's been opening doors since he was a fucking _kid_ , it's not like it's _hard_ to open doors, but he just doesn't know who's on the other side, and. 

He _knows_ he had a good time with Billy, in Nancy's room, on Labor Day, but Billy wasn't _mad_ at him on Labor Day, and he is _now_ , so. 

If Steve opens the door, and Billy's there, and he comes in here with Steve, like. 

Well.

Steve's _not_ scared. 

He just wants to be alone. 

But this isn't his apartment, so.

Steve's not _allowed_ to just take up space here. 

He probably shouldn't even _be_ here, tonight.

He opens the door, and Ms Byers asks him, "Hey, are you okay?" 

"Yeah, thanks." 

"You've got a little. Uh. _Here_ ," and Ms Byers lifts her hand, brushes a few of her fingertips across Steve's cheekbone, bites her lip when she finishes, "I know we don't talk much, Steve, but. It means the _world_ to me, you looking out for Will the way you do, and. If you _ever_  wanna talk about _anything_ , you can _always_ come to me, okay?"

"...okay?"

Including this one, Steve's had, like, a grand total of _four_ conversations with Ms Byers, _ever_ , so.   

Is Steve giving off some kinda really desperate vibe, lately, or _what_? 

Why does everybody suddenly wanna fucking _talk_ to him?

Ms Byers looks strange, like maybe she's sad, or something, and Steve's _not_ about to be an asshole to somebody who's _already sad on Thanksgiving_ , so.

He waits it out as she tells him, quiet and intense and _super fucking weird_ , "I mean it. I don't care what _time_ it is, or. What's going on, if you're. If you just need to _talk_ , or if you need a _ride_ somewhere, or. Or _anything_ , okay?"

"That's real nice of you, Ms Byers. Thanks." 

 

 

 

 

There's a seat open next to Billy, but he and Max look like they're caught up in a _really_ intense talk, so. 

Dustin calls, " _Steve_!" 

Steve sits down next to Dustin, who pushes a plate at him, explains, "We're doing dessert  _first_ , 'cause Will's mom wants her _boyfriend_ to cut the turkey, I guess, only, he is, like, _still_ not here, _so—_ " 

Steve lets Dustin talk to him about the three kinds of pie he already put on Steve's plate for him, a piece of the store-bought pumpkin one Billy brought along, a piece of sugar cream that Lucas' mom made him bring over, a piece of the apple pie Nancy _claims_ her mom made, but Dustin says he is  _sure_  that's actually from this one really expensive bakery in the city, especially because _everybody knows_  that Mrs Wheeler just _doesn't know how_ to make a lattice-topped pie, _anyway_ , and.

Dustin stops, peers a little closer at Steve's face, whispers, "Were you _crying_? What's _wrong_?" 

Oh.

_Fuck_.

"Nah, man, I got allergies. Had to put in some eye drops." 

Dustin doesn't look like he believes that, but. 

Dustin's _cool_ , so.

It's probably going to be fine. 

 

 

 

 

Steve nods politely through two of Jonathan's slow boring pointless college stories, smiles blankly when Nancy tells exactly half of a story about crashing a sorority party before she realizes that nobody fucking _cares_ and she shuts up, and then Steve finishes his beer, notices that the mood is _so_ fucking dead that everybody is just silently checking their phones, so.

He tells the Catholic joke, and even _Max_ thinks it's funny, and Mike's girlfriend laughs like it's the best thing ever, like she's _not_ the one who fucking _told_ it to him, and Billy makes this annoyed face, like he thinks he's the _only_ Catholic in the entire fucking _world_ , so it's therefore, like, a _highly personal insult_ , and. 

Steve wants another drink, but he _also_ wants to go home, so. 

Sometimes, life is _all about_  making difficult choices. 

 

 

 

 

This time, it's _Billy_ who follows _Steve_ outside, and Steve is just trying to sober up enough to drive himself home so he can sleep, but Billy _never_ lets Steve do what he wants, Steve _always_ has to do what _Billy_ wants, and, _apparently_ , Billy wants to _talk_ , so.

"I don't know why I have to keep  _telling_ you, but I _can't_ take care of you if you don't ever fucking _tell_ me _—_ "

And it might be a lie, it's _probably_ a lie, but it's going to upset Billy, and maybe it's fucked up, but that is _all_ that Steve really wants to do, as far as Billy is concerned, so he exclaims, "I don't fucking  _want_ you taking care of me!"

And, one more time, Billy looks to the side, looks down, laughs.

And then he looks back up at Steve, and he hits him, just once, with the back of his hand, and it's this sharp _shock_ of a sting that makes Steve's eyes well up again, but he's not going to fucking _cry_ , because he doesn't fucking _need_ to. 

Steve's not _sad_ , he's _angry_ , and he's fucking _sick_ of Billy acting like he thinks _he_ gets to be mean and violent and angry, but _Steve_ doesn't have the fucking _right_ , or something.

Billy isn't _special_  just because he hits people, sometimes. 

_Steve_ could like hitting people, _too_ , probably, if he _wanted_.

It's not _hard_ to hit people.

_Lots_ of people do that. 

Billy is a nice guy, sometimes, and he can be _real_ sweet, and he's. 

He _is_ special. 

But he is _not_ as special as he fucking _thinks_ he is, so. 

Steve swallows down the little bit of blood that's stinging inside his mouth, where one of his teeth just cut open his gums, and then he starts, "So, _what_ , like. Is that why you wear those belts all the time?"

Billy blinks. " _What_?"

"I mean, I know you're into the vintage retro vibe, sometimes, man, I _know_ , but, like. Your jeans are _gonna_ stay up, so. You don't _gotta_ wear a belt." Billy still looks confused. _Steve_ isn't confused. _Steve_ knows what's going on. For fucking  _once_ , Steve knows more than Billy does, and it feels so fucking  _good_. "You wanna hit me with that thing?"

"My. My _belt_?" 

" _Yeah_ , like. You wanna be my  _daddy_ ; that's, like, your _thing_ , so. You gotta do it like  _your_ daddy did it to  _you_ , right?" 

"Shut the  _fuck_   _up_." 

Steve _should_ shut the fuck up.

This is a shitty way to talk to somebody, like, not _just_ a boyfriend, but _anybody_ , like. 

This is _really_ gonna set off Billy's whole _respect_ thing, and Steve _knows_ it, but.

Steve doesn't _care_.

He _can't_ care.

Billy talks to Steve however he wants, _all the time_ , and maybe that doesn't make it _okay_ , but it sure as hell makes it fucking _fair_.

"I _don't_ gotta stop just 'cause it's what _you_ want! When the fuck do  _you_  ever stop on  _your_ bullshit just 'cause  _I_  want you to?!"

" _Steve—_ "

"I'm  _Steve_ , now?!  _Jesus_ , you know you  _never_ fucking call me that _—_ " 

"It's your fucking  _name_!"

" _Yeah_ , Billy, kinda like  _I_  always call you  _your_ name, 'cause  _you're_ a person, and you  _got_ a name, and you  _never_ call me _mine_ , 'cause  _I_  don't matter,  _and—_ "

" _Baby_ ," Billy's like, stepping in close, getting an arm around Steve, lowering his voice as he continues, " _Listen_  to me. You're  _really_  fucked up, so we're going home. I have to go tell Max, but I'll be right _—_ "

_God_ , this _isn't_ great, because Steve remembers doing this kinda thing when Nancy was still real upset about Barb, when they would go out and try to forget about it, just for a night, and it would _always_ go straight to hell.

Back then, Steve was always the one going,  _hey, let's leave, we can watch Kate Winslet movies on my couch, just us, it'll be fun! No, baby, I'm not being condescending. Okay, fine, well, I'm not trying to be condescending? Babe, come on, I barely even know what that word means!_  

It's not _great_ , because Steve _knows_ Billy's trying to do that, and that's _so_ fucking embarrassing, because Nancy was really _sad_ , and _fragile_ , and she was  _going through a_ _lot_ , and. 

And Steve's not _like_ that.

All Steve's _like_ is a drunk idiot fighting with his boyfriend on someone else's mostly-dead front lawn.

" _You_  can go home, if you're so fucking _desperate_ to go _—_ " 

"You need to _stop_ yelling at me, Harrington, or I  _swear—_ "

"Oh,  _shit_ , Billy, you  _swear_? What the hell do you  _swear_?! Are you gonna  _hit_  me?!"

Billy promises, dark and low and almost-scared, " _Yeah_." 

" _Oh_ ," Steve breathes. " _There_ he is!  _That's_ my man." 

Billy looks like he's going to throw up.

Steve doesn't fucking  _care_. 

He doesn't care, because it doesn't _matter_ , because _none_ of this matters, because _Steve_ doesn't matter, so he shoves Billy, _hard_ , and plants his feet, like Billy always used to tell him to do, because.

_Yeah_ , the blood is annoying, but that slap didn't exactly _hurt_.

It hurts _just_ as much as Steve has been expecting it to, though, when Billy punches him, so.

_That's_ not great, either. 

 

 

 

 

"It's a felony to abuse your partner in front of a kid. Under the age of sixteen, that's the law."

" _Okay_?" Steve laughs awkwardly, "Well, _listen_ , man, nobody  _abused_  anybody; it was  _just_  a fight." 

"Oh, yeah? You hit him, too, then?" 

"Um, _no_ , but that doesn't  _mean_ anything, like. I mean, I  _said_ some shit I shouldn't have said—"

"Let me be  _clear_  with you," the cop sighs. The cop is dating Ms Byers. The cop is Mike's girlfriend's dad. Nancy's little brother's girlfriend's dad thinks Steve's a fucking _abuse victim_ , so. Mike is going to find out, and then  _Nancy_  is going to find out, and  _everyone in Hawkins_  is going to know, and that's going to be  _so fucking embarrassing_ , it's going to be even fucking _worse_ than everybody finding out about Nancy cheating on him, and it's _not even fucking true_. "If your boyfriend hits you? He's a bad boyfriend. No matter what."

"This wasn't even a  _relationship thing_ , okay?! It was  _totally_  unrelated, and. It's.  _Look_ , everything's  _fine_. How much do I need to bail him out for?" 

The cop makes this face like he thinks Steve's a fucking idiot, but people  _usually_ look at Steve like that, so.

He ignores it. 

"Have to coordinate with his parole officer."

Steve raises an eyebrow. 

"Can't talk to _him_ until the morning. Maybe next week, 'cause of the long weekend."

"Jesus  _fucking_  Christ!" 

The cop shrugs, scrapes some pie off a fork with his teeth, before he tells Steve, "You can say hi before you go, if you want. I wouldn't, if I was you. Your boy's been screaming like a psychopath for about twenty minutes."

"That's. It's a _stressful vibe_ , probably, he's. He's not usually  _like_ that." 

" _Sure_ , kid."

 

 

 

 

Steve just wants to go _home_ , but he heads back to the Byers' place so he can get Max home, first, and.

She's sitting on the porch, passing a cigarette back and forth with Will, but when Steve parks in the driveway, Max jumps off the porch, comes closer to Steve, demands, " _Wait_ , so, Billy really  _hit_  you?!" 

"Yeah."

" _Wow_. Um. What did you  _do_?"

Steve's having a  _really_  rough night, so. 

" _Excuse me_ , Maxine, what the _fuck_? What did I _do_?!" 

" _No_ , come on,  _sorry_ , I just mean, like. What pissed him off?" 

" _Nothing_ , look, _Jesus_ , it's.  _Fuck_ , it's just  _not_  a big deal, okay?!" 

Max makes a face like she thinks it's actually a  _huge_  fucking deal. "I don't even. I mean.  _Shit_! Who called the fucking  _cops_?"

Why the hell is she asking  _Steve_?

He has  _no_  fucking idea. 

Will's just like, "My mom."

" _What_?!" 

"You guys were  _right outside our house_!"

"You had  _no_   _right_ _to_ —"

" _I_  didn't say anything! Nancy talked to Jonathan, and then I don't  _know_  what Jonathan said to Mom, but I'm  _sorry_ , okay?! We didn't  _know_  they might put him back in jail!" 

Even if Jonathan didn't, Ms Byers probably knew, but.

It's not  _Will's_  fault, so.

"It's fine. Whatever. He's gonna be  _fine_."

 

 

 

 

It's weird when Steve drives Max and Dustin home.

Max, at least, offers up a semi-steady stream of mockery while Dustin talks about some online roleplaying game that Steve knows nothing about, but once she's gone, Dustin stops talking, too, until they're about a minute away from his place, when Dustin finally says, "You know if somebody hits you, they  _don't_  love you, _right_?" 

"It's not  _like_  that, Dustin."

" _Okay_ , but I have seen a  _lot_  of Lifetime movies—"

" _God_ , of  _course_  you have, man, how do you have the _time_ —"

"And this is how they  _all_  go," Dustin finishes, scowling. " _Even_ you being like,  _oh, it's not like that_?! Yeah, that happens in all of them,  _too_!" 

Steve rolls his eyes, parks, sighs, " _Listen_ , I'm _totally fine_ , okay? Thanks for the protips, though." 

 

 

 

 

The cops call to say Billy's out of jail, but he's not allowed to come home for a few days, like. 

Like, he's _legally_ not allowed to come home, or to _talk_ to Steve, or.

Or _anything_ , so.

Steve stress-buys lots of Black Friday shit that he doesn't even want. 

He fucking _hates_ long weekends.

 

 

 

 

"Hey, Steve, uh. Good morning, listen, I think I got some of your mail, on accident." 

The mail hasn't been _delivered_ yet. 

Steve yawns, "Right. Thanks?" 

"Sorry," Travis smiles. "Maybe this is, um. None of my business, but. Your, uh. Boyfriend?" 

"Roommate." 

"Oh.  _Really_?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I guess I thought. Well, um. _Hey_ , would you wanna go out, sometime?" 

There's a second, a  _second_ , where Steve almost says yes. 

Except for the drugdealer thing, he still doesn't know too much about Travis.

Travis _could_ be a nice guy. 

He could be a _really_ nice guy. 

Steve's not so sure that's the type of guy he wants, though.

"I'm actually doing that thing where you take, like, a year to yourself, so." 

"Oh, yeah," Travis says, seriously. "Yeah, I've _read_ about that, it's supposed to be really good, like. Health-wise." 

Steve does not really give a  _fuck_  about his health right now, or, in fact,  _ever_ , but. 

"Yeah, self-care is  _really_  important," he lies. "Listen, I'm gonna be late for work, so—"

"Oh, sorry, yeah, um. Okay, bye." 

Steve watches him leave, without handing Steve any of the mail that he _allegedly_ got by mistake, so. 

Steve rolls his eyes.

He feels _really_ fucking tired.

He's gonna have to call in sick to work. 

 

 

 

  

It doesn't hit Steve until late in the afternoon, when the mail finally comes for real, that, _yeah_ , Travis didn't have any mail, because the mail doesn't ever come on Sundays, so. 

Back when Billy got Steve those dumb Reese's Cups online, he was all like, _yeah, they came a day early_ , except it was a _Sunday_ , so, like. 

Maybe they _did_ come early, but they came on _Saturday_?

So, _what_ , like.

Billy just waited a whole _day_ to give them to Steve, like he was _nervous_ about it, or something? 

_God_.

That is.

Well.

It's sorta _really_ cute. 

 

 

 

 

"They called it _battery and assault_ ," Steve says, rolling his eyes, around seven-thirty. "Which is _so_ dumb, 'cause it  _isn't_ true, like—"

" _Battery_ is the injury," Susan explains, gently. She looks _real_ tired, but she _also_ just looks like somebody who's had to deal with Billy _and_ Max _and_ Billy's dad, all trapped together in the same tiny house all weekend, and, like. Steve would probably look tired, _too_ , so. " _Assault_ is just having the _intention_ to hurt you." 

"Well, that's. It's  _not_ what happened." 

"It's just a few days, right?" Steve nods, and Susan smiles, throws one last glance around the apartment, tries, "Do you _need_ anything? Groceries, or...?"

"Um, _no_ , thanks, I'm. I'm not _helpless_ ; I can _do_ stuff." 

Susan does _not_ look like she believes him, but she just zips up the duffel bag she's put some of Billy's stuff into, like, "Have you told your parents yet?" 

Has Steve told his parents _what_?

Has Steve told his parents that Ms Byers' asshole boyfriend says Billy can't come back to the apartment for seven days, to give Steve enough time to file for a fucking _restraining order_?

Why _would_ Steve tell his parents that?

He's not _actually_ living in a fucking Lifetime movie, so he's not _actually_  kicking his boyfriend out just because they had one little fight. 

_No_. 

"Yeah. They're not worried, and. Me _neither_ , so..." 

 

 

 

 

Steve's late to work, so, _naturally_ , Dad's first question for him is, "Where the hell is your tie?"

"At home." 

" _Steven_ , don't you _dare_ give me attitude." 

"I'm _not_ ," Steve snaps. Attitude means _what_? That Steve's being an asshole? He's _not_ being an asshole. He feels _dead_ , so. All he's _doing_ is being a fucking _zombie_. "I woke up late. Sorry." 

"You _woke up late_? Yeah, well, you woke up late, you _got_ here late, _and_ you called in yesterday—"

Steve wishes he was the type of person who could just casually be like, _yeah, Dad, I called in sick because I was tired, because I miss my boyfriend, because he was in jail, and he can't come home, because he tried to beat me up outside of a strangers' house on what's basically the biggest familial holiday of the year, while you and Mom were both fucking random colleagues and pretending I didn't even exist_ , but it turns out he's _not_ that type of person, so. 

"So, _what_?"

" _So_ , you only have so many sick days, Steven. Look, I. I _need_ you to start taking this job seriously." 

" _Why_?" Steve wants to know, like. _God_ , he honestly just  _really_ wants to know. "Isn't it _better_ if I keep screwing up, and you get to tell Mom you  _had_ to let me go, 'cause I'm the fucking worst, and it was embarrassing, and it's not _your_ fault I'm so fucking dumb and worthless, like, you _tried_ to help me, but you can't work fucking _miracles_ , so—"

"Alright, go _home_ , Steven. _Now_."

It's not even _ten_ yet, so.

_No_. 

No, there's only _one_ fucking way Steve's going home. 

"Are you _firing_ me?" 

"Go home." 

" _Yeah_ , just _say_ it, and I _will_." 

"No." 

" _What_ , like. You scared to tell _Mom_ about it? _I_ can, like, tell her _for_ you, if you _want_ , or, like. I could draft you a _text_ —" 

"It's not about your mother." 

Steve thinks about that for a minute, and then he smiles, and he can't fucking _stop_. "You don't wanna pay me _severance_?"  

"What I don't fucking _want_ , Steven, is to keep _handing_ you things. You're _twenty-one years old_ ; you need to be able to take care of yourself. Do you know how _embarrassing_ it is for me, that my friends, my fucking _employees_ , even in _this_ fucking economy, _all_ of their kids are in college, they're getting married, they're having kids, and you're," and Dad shakes his head, rubs a hand across his face, sighs. " _You_ are—"

"I'm _embarrassing_ ," Steve's like, standing up, walking over to Dad's office door. This isn't _going_ anywhere, and. He doesn't want to be stuck in this fucking room all day long, so. "Yeah. _Whatever_. I'll go home." 

 

 

 

 

And Steve _should_ go home, but. 

He doesn't. 

 

 

 

 

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you're maybe _not_ here to kill me, for the other day?" 

"Yeah, no, um, I'm. I'm _not_ , no. Do you _just_  sell pot, or, like. You got other shit?" 

Travis shrugs, smiles, waves Steve inside his apartment. "What's your poison, pretty boy?" 

" _Don't_ call me that." 

"Oh, uh. Hey, I didn't _mean_ to—"

"No," Steve's like. "It's not. It's not a _thing_ , sorry, I didn't mean to, like. Be a dick, _listen_ , I'm _real_ sorry, just. Um, do you have one of those credit card scanning things, or, like. _Not_ , 'cause I think I  _only_ got, like, twenty bucks in cash."

Travis laughs, "You're _probably_ good for it, though, right? But, _no_ , uh. Yeah, just hang on, I got one,  _somewhere_." 

Steve nods, pulls out his phone, texts, _so my dad thinks im 21_

It takes less than a minute for Max to reply,  _ugh lmao dads r UNIVERSAL TRASH_

 

 

 

 

Steve is passed the fuck out for the rest of the day, and then he's up again, but he can still _barely_ move for most of Wednesday morning, so.

It's early in the afternoon when Billy picks up his call, doesn't say anything, just  _breathes_ , and.

_God_ , that  _shouldn't_  be calming, but it fucking  _is_.

Steve listens to Billy breathing, listens to his sleep playlist, listens to Travis blaring rap music next door. 

He thinks he _knows_ why Billy isn't saying anything, but.

"I know you could get in trouble, 'cause of the _restraining order_ , or whatever, but I. I didn't _want_ that. I'm. I _already_ told Hopper, um. He's the. The cop who—"

" _Yeah_ , I  _know_ who Hopper is," Billy sighs, and he sounds _drained_ , like. Billy sounds like he always does when he's been drinking too many protein shakes like they _actually_ count as real food, so. He _basically_ sounds like he's dead. "That asshole told me, like,  _twenty-five times_  if you called, I was supposed to hang up." 

"Oh." 

"So you can't tell anybody I _didn't_ , okay?" 

" _Okay_ ," Steve agrees, and Billy's getting ready to hang up, Steve can _tell_ , so. "Hey, um. I _miss_ you, you know? Like, a _lot_." 

"Yeah. Me too, I mean." Billy _doesn't_ hang up, but. He's quiet again, for a few minutes, until. "What's _wrong_ with you? Your parents being rough on you, or what?"

Steve shakes his head, but Billy can't _see_ him, so.

"No. No, I. I'm at home. I mean. At the apartment, at. Our place." 

For a real long time, Billy's quiet again, and then, out of nowhere, he says, " _Home Alone 2_  is on TBS, and that is, like, the  _best_ holiday movie, but it started a couple minutes ago. I could tell you what happened, if you don't—"

" _Macaulay Culkin_ was my  _childhood hero_. I fucking  _know_  how it starts."

He doesn't really _want_ to get out of bed, but he's in Billy's room, and there's no TV in here, so.

He moves the one blanket Susan left on Billy's bed into the living room, turns on the TV, sighs, "Okay, TBS?" 

" _Yeah_ ," Billy yawns, and there's this weird little clicking noise, so. 

"My man, you  _need_ to get a new one of those."

" _Hey_ , why the hell you  _coming_  for me, right now? You can't even fucking  _see—_ "

"I don't gotta _see_  you to  _know_  you're hitting the  _oldest_  e-cig in the whole fucking  _world—_ "

"I  _don't_  have to take this shit from you," Billy informs him, but he's smiling, Steve can _hear_ it, so. "I'm just out here trying to  _live—_ "

"Well,  _I'm_  trying to watch Kevin get his  _Eloise At The Plaza_  on, and you are  _really_  killing my vibe—"

"Oh,  _no_ , what a  _bummer_  for you—"

" _Man_ , I don't gotta  _take_  this," Steve drawls, but he's smiling, too, and Billy probably knows, just like Billy _always_ knows _everything_ , so. "Hey, Billy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You alone?" 

" _Yeah_?" 

Steve bites his lip, thinks, tries hopefully, "I could come over?" 

"No." 

" _You_  could come over _here_?" 

" _Baby_ —"

"I _miss_ you." 

It hasn't even been a _week_ , so.

_Sure_ , it's _unlikely_ , but maybe Billy already forgot how annoying and pathetic Steve is?

_Maybe_ , but.

He definitely remembers _now_ , right? 

"I don't really think we should be alone together."

Steve's _never_  known anybody who wanted to _be alone_ with him as much as _Billy_ always fucking does, so. 

What the _fuck_?

Steve listens to Billy breathing, listens to the movie, plants one of his ears down against his arm so he can hear his heartbeat, or the blood that's flowing through his head, or _whatever_ the fuck makes that noise, until Billy suggests, "How about you go out, later? Like, call one of your friends." 

Is that a _joke_?

Is it that thing where Billy's just mean because he thinks, like.  

Like, it's _obviously true_ , so it's  _allowed_? 

"I don't _have_ friends." 

"What about that girl from work? Madeline." 

" _Madison_ and me don't work together anymore."

"She finally quit?" 

_Finally_ , like Billy remembers Steve mentioning it, every couple weeks, how Madison kept saying she hated working reception and wished she could afford to quit, like. 

Like Billy was  _listening_  when Steve talked about work, sometimes, even though he never  _acted_  like it, and. 

"No, um. My dad fired me," Steve admits, and maybe it's been a little while, but he still _knows_ Billy, so he  _knows_  that no matter how weirdly kind Billy's been for the past few minutes, there's  _no way_  he's not about to laugh, or be really horrible, or call Steve  _princess_ , so. "Um, I gotta go. Bye." 

He turns off the TV.

 

 

 

 

Post Malone's _Psycho_  has been playing on repeat from Travis' place for, like, _three and a half hours_  by the time Billy comes over, so they cuddle up close on the armchair to listen to it, and Billy keeps carding his fingers through Steve's hair, and calling him _baby_ every five seconds, and it's _really_ nice, except. 

When Billy gets like this, really affectionate and sweet and everything, sometimes it just feels like he's playing a joke on Steve, like. 

It doesn't feel _real_.

It feels like a _joke_ , and Steve can't _relax_ , not when he _knows_ something bad is going to happen soon, so.

As soon as Billy stops talking about some song Max forced him to listen to yesterday, Steve clears his throat, starts, "I think maybe we should, um. Like. Take a break? For a little. Just, like, a _week_ , or _—_ "

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me? You know I'm _only_ here 'cause you  _called_ , fucking  _begging_ me to come over?" 

"Yeah, _no_ , I just. No, _babe_ , I'm _happy_ you're here, I just. I don't _know_ , I think _—_ "

Billy groans, tugs sharply at a handful of Steve's hair, decides, "Look, you can do whatever the hell you want to do, Harrington.  _I_  just got out of actual fucking  _jail_ , over here; _I'm_ fucking  _tired_." 

Steve points out, "You never care when  _I'm_  too tired for  _your_  shit. Like, literally when I'm, like, _totally_ _asleep_ , you wake me up, _just_ to fuck _—_ "

Because, the thing is, now that Steve _thinks_ about it?

That's  _true_.

It's, like,  _disgustingly_  true.

When that happens, Billy's wasted, most of the time, and, yeah, _sometimes_ he gets a little crazy, but it's _fine_ , because it just seems like Billy really _cares_ about Steve, even if he's not always that obvious about it, except. 

"Yeah,  _no_ , I'm not going to go out and waste my time on somebody else if I fucking  _know_  I can just come home and you'll jump on my cock like you  _need_  it to keep your fucking  _heart_   _beating_."

That's not.

That's _not_ how it happens.

Steve tries, "That's not—"

"It's not  _my_  fault if  _you're_  kind of a whore, _is_ it?"

"I'm  _not—_ "

"Just like it's not  _my_  fault that you've got daddy issues, and it's not  _my_  fucking fault you're a fucking  _moron_ who doesn't know how to  _do_  anything by himself, I mean,  _shit_ , you just,  _what_? Fucking move in with the  _first_  guy to pay attention to you, all because you're  _sad_  that some bitch cheated on you? Who  _does_  that? Do you know how  _dumb_  that is? How fucking desperate for attention  _are_  you?" 

"That. This is. _Billy_ , you're being _really_ mean to me." 

"I'm being  _honest_." 

" _Fuck_   _you_ , okay?! Those things  _aren't_  mutually exclusive!" 

Billy grins. "What do _you_ think mutually exclusive _means_?" 

"I fucking _hate_ you."

"You know _what_? I'm _not_ that into you, either, I mean, you got me fucking _arrested_ , which is _really_  funny, 'cause, hey, you look _fine_ ," and Billy's grin gets a _lot_ meaner, then, except. It was _already_ really mean, so. "I almost couldn't fucking _believe_ it, you know, having all these cops talking shit to me about _abuse_ , like, I'm in a cell thinking, like, _hey, maybe I blacked out and put Harrington in a fucking coma, what kind of flowers am I supposed to send to his fucking mother for something like that_ , but you know, it's like. Yeah. _Yeah_ , I should've fucking _known_ a spoiled little high-maintenance _bitch_ like you would just  _cry_ over _anything—_ "

"I didn't fucking _cry—_ "

Steve doesn't realize he's pulling away from Billy until Billy laughs, tugs Steve back into his arms, gets right up against his mouth to ask, " _Oh_ , you think I can't make you _cry_ , King Steve? Are you _sure_?" 

"Stop it." 

"Stop _what_? I'm not _doing_ anything, baby; I just want to  _be_ with you." 

_God_.

Billy is the _worst_ _person_ Steve's ever fucking _met_. 

"I didn't _make_ you say that to me, I. I didn't fucking _ask_ for _—_ "

"Oh, _yeah_ , because you could _never_ make me do _anything_ , so. Nothing's your fault, _right_?" 

"I don't. _What_?" 

"I mean,  _King Steve_ decides to rent the _smallest_ room in a _shitty_ apartment, _King Steve_ decides to score himself a boyfriend 'cause he thinks he  _likes_ _—_ "

" _Stop_ it, that's _not—_ "

" _King Steve_ decides he wants a beatdown on Thanksgiving so _everybody_ will know he's _finally_ fucking learning how to _suffer—_ "

" _Fuck you_ , that's not _fair_ , that's _—_ "

"Explain it to me, baby, 'cause the way _I_ see it, like.  _I_  just want to take you home, _you_ want me to hit you, and then _I_ go to jail, like _I'm_ the one who's fucking up? Yeah,  _that's_  what's not fucking _fair_."

"But I didn't _make_ you do that!" 

" _Yeah_ , you _did_." And Billy shrugs, makes this face like he just doesn't _get_  why Steve's so lost, like he _really_ believes this, like it _actually_ makes sense, and. Maybe it _does_? Steve can't fucking _tell_ , he _really_ can't, but Billy sure as shit seems like he believes it when he goes, "And you could have done it  _anytime_ , just like this, you and me, at home, but you _had_ to do it, like. _What_ , in front of your _ex_? You want her to _pity_ you, and fuck you out of _sympathy_?"

"I don't _—_ "

"I _honestly_ don't know why you're so into her. Don't you _remember_  she cheated on you with some guy who is, just. I mean, he's _obviously_ ending up on _some_ _kind_ of sex offenders list, at _some_ point _—_ "

"I haven't even _talked_ to Nancy _—_ "

" _Really_? That's a bummer. You want me to call her for you, see if she'd still hit it?" 

"Billy, this _isn't fucking fair_!" 

"You got me _arrested_." That's _not_ true. Billy can keep saying that if he _wants_ to, but it's _not_ Steve's fault that that happened, and. "But you're going to make it up to me, _aren't_ you?"

Steve didn't do anything he has to make up _for_ , so.

_No_. 

Steve shakes his head, and Billy reaches over, gently tucks some of Steve's hair behind his ear, licks his lips when he asks, "You _sure_ about that, pretty boy? You don't want to be good for me?" 

 

 

 

 

It's _not_ bad sex. 

It's _fine_. 

Billy fucks his mouth, and it's _totally_ fine, and Billy groans, " _So_ fucking good at this," and that's great, until he continues, "You used to give the _worst_ blowjobs, you know that?" and then he finishes, "Got you trained up, though. Fucking _love_ choking on Daddy's cock, now, _don't_ you, baby?"  

It would be _really_ embarrassing to puke on Billy's dick.

Steve _knows_ that, it's just.

It's just that it might end up happening, anyway. 

 

 

 

 

Billy has to leave, says he'll come back tomorrow, asks Steve for a goodbye kiss. 

Steve doesn't really want to give him one.

Billy saying he's been training Steve to give him head,  _training_ , like he's a fucking  _dog_ , is one of the grossest things Billy has  _ever_  said to him, it might be the _grossest one of_   _all time_ , and that's counting  _everything_  Billy's  _ever_  said, and so Steve sorta feels like he doesn't want to have to touch Billy ever again.

He's still trying to think of a way out of it when he says, "You know, like. You kinda cut up my mouth, on Thanksgiving," because that's _true_ , and Billy's somebody who, like, _thinks_ about germs and bacteria and whatever, so.

Steve _hopes_ Billy's just going to leave.

Instead, Billy stays right where he is, pushes one of his thumbs into Steve's mouth, feels out the last couple spots on the inside of Steve's lips that are still sore, like.

Like maybe Billy knows _exactly_ where it hurts, because he's been hit like that before, too. 

"You really _do_ like it a lot. What's _up_ with that? Just makes you feel good, or what?" 

Steve blinks his eyes back open, swallows, realizes he's just been mindlessly suckling at Billy's thumb for a while, and he's probably _not_ blushing, but his face probably  _is_  still red just from, like, being held down on Billy's dick for so long, so. 

He takes a few steps away from Billy, rubs the back of his fist over his mouth, asks, "So, um, tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow." And, just like that, Billy's pulling open the front door, winking, going, " _Bye_ , baby."

 

 

 

 

The thing is, Steve doesn't want to seem dumb and gay and dramatic about this. 

_Honestly_ , the whole thing  _barely even matters_.

Steve doesn't even really _think_ about it, anymore. 

But.

Okay.

_So_.

There was this one time, right after Barb died, when Dad came home, and Steve didn't  _know_  he was coming home, but he did, and he came  _right_  into Steve's room, even though his flight got in real late, so it was, like, literally  _three-thirty in the morning_ , and he woke Steve up  _just_  to fucking yell at him, like that made  _sense_ , or something, like that  _wasn't_  fucking crazy and pointless and awful.

He told Steve that he had embarrassed him, that he was grounded for the foreseeable future, that if he knew what was good for him, he wouldn't fuck up so bad again, even though,  _yeah_ , Steve still feels bad about Barb, and he felt bad at the time,  _too_ , but it's not like it was  _directly_ Steve's fault that she died, so, like.

How the fuck could he possibly do it  _again_? 

How many more pool parties was he  _realistically_  going to be able to throw in the fucking  _autumn_ , right? 

And Dad yelled some more, after that, talking about how Steve  _wasn't_  as fucking funny as he thought he was, and how Steve was  _disrespectful_ and  _ungrateful_  and, like,  _whatever_ , the  _worst_  kid in the whole entire  _world_ , or something, and.

And Dad started talking about  _discipline_ , and  _punishments_ , and it wasn't like it was the first time Steve had ever heard him say shit like that, it was just the first time when anything really  _happened_ , and.

And eventually, the security officers employed by the Homeowners Association showed up at the front door, saying that one of their neighbors had reported a disturbance, and Dad was pissed about that, too, even though it wasn't  _Steve's_  fault that  _Dad_  decided to be loud and mean and fucking  _crazy_  in the middle of the fucking night, and.

And Steve locked his door, and he thought about crying, but he couldn't, and he thought about sleeping, but he fucking  _couldn't_ , and. 

And Steve told Billy about it, in the summertime, because Billy said he wanted Steve to tell him things, and maybe it was stupid, but Billy just didn't  _seem_  like the same guy from high school, he seemed like somebody who was _really nice_ , so Steve just didn't want him to be offended, when he had to lock his door every night, but he  _did_  have to lock his fucking door, because he was fucking  _scared_ , still, and.

And Billy thinks Steve is a dumb slut with daddy issues, and Steve wants to fucking  _die_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> expect a quick(ish) epilogue to follow shortly, with a billy pov fic in this verse to be posted sometime after that, and a series of mostly lighthearted deleted scenes/alternate endings to be posted as soon as someone expresses an interest.
> 
>  
> 
>  _chapter title from_ : king of the fall (the weeknd)  
>  _songs referenced throughout the text_ : nice for what (drake) // the sound (the 1975) // liability (lorde) // primadonna (marina and the diamonds) // gold digger (kanye west & jamie foxx) // swimming pools (kendrick lamar) // bored (billie eilish) // location (khalid) // let you down (nf) // psycho (post malone & ty dolla $ign)


	5. (that day we met in december) baby, i will love you until the end of time

**december**

Max says, in that quick anxious voice that she has, "So, like, Billy asked me where you were, but I'm _mostly_ just trying to see if you're alive, 'cause, like.  _I_  don't know. Billy's read  _Gone Girl_ , like,  _twice_ , so, he could probably  _totally_  kill you and just need an alibi? So, um. Yeah, let me know if you're alive? _God_. This is  _embarrassing_ , um. Just. Just hit me back, Steve. I  _won't_  tell Billy where you are, just. Okay. Bye." 

The kid seems  _real_  worked up, so.

Steve sends her a selfie, right away so he won't forget about it, just an unfiltered shot of his reflection in the chrome of the toaster oven at his parents' place, and then he turns off his phone. 

 

 

 

 

Steve has some voicemails from Billy that only last for sixteen seconds, but he _also_ has some that go up to a minute and thirty-eight seconds, and they're _equally_  intimidating, whenever Steve thinks about them, but, like. 

He  _has_ to listen to them  _sometime_ , right? 

It's just. 

Maybe not  _right_ now?

He's _gonna_ listen to them,  _just_ like he's gonna go home,  _just_ like he's gonna make things right with Billy. 

He  _really_ is. 

He just needs some more _time_ , first. 

 

 

 

 

The other night, Steve let himself into his old house, shaking and scared and upset, and his mouth was all swollen, and his hair was a _mess_ , and his eyes were gross from crying too much, and he stood in the foyer for ten minutes, until Dad walked in, and noticed him, and called out, _your son is here_ , and.

Then he just went upstairs, and slammed his door shut.

Dad hasn't said a _word_ to Steve since he fired him, and. 

Honestly, Steve  _doesn't_  fucking care. 

Dad's home more nights than Mom is, but he usually gets in late and leaves early, so.

It's a _lot_ like dealing with Billy at the apartment, back when they were fighting.

Steve locks his door, pretends to be asleep, and Dad stops outside of his room for a second, and Steve feels like he's gonna fucking  _die_ , but.

The shadow by the door _always_ moves on, keeps walking to Mom and Dad's room at the end of the hall, and the lights turn off, and Steve doesn't feel  _better_ , but he can still get a couple of hours of sleep.

By design, this whole thing is temporary, because Steve is at home because he's scared, sure,  _fine_ , but it's not like Billy doesn't fucking  _know_  where the house is.

He's going to come over _eventually_.

He's probably just holding back because he's not sure what Steve's parents know about him.

They don't know  _anything_ , but.

It  _wouldn't_  matter if they knew  _everything_. 

Dad has  _always_  said that Steve needed discipline. 

He and Billy would get along  _great_ , but, seriously, even if they  _wouldn't_ , like. 

Steve's ready to go the fuck  _home_.

He _really_  misses Billy, like, a  _lot_ , but he's not too sure if that's just because he's in his parents' house, like.

They don't fucking  _like_  him, and, fine,  _yeah_ , maybe Billy doesn't like Steve,  _either_ , but he's always nice enough to  _pretend_  like he does.

 _Every_ fucking time, until  _Steve_  fucks everything up, and starts talking shit, and starts being mean, Billy is _really_ nice, _isn't_ he?

Billy calls him  _baby_ , and Billy bakes him _pies_ , and Billy watches dumb TV with him, and everything is  _perfect_. 

And _Steve's_ the one who fucked up, he fucked up a  _lot_ , so he should go back home and apologize.

He _knows_ that.

He _really_ does. 

He's scared, though. 

He's really fucking _scared_.

 

 

 

 

Tonight, Steve goes out to sit on the front steps and smoke a cigarette.

He walks back into a _twisted_ alternate universe where Mom and Dad are on the couch, together, watching  _RuPaul's Drag Race_.

This has the potential to be the _single_ most amusing thing ever, but it's not like Steve's gonna stop to watch them, because he doesn't actually  _care_  what they're doing, but then Dad informs him, "Your friend called."

Steve doesn't know how a man who's had a  _million_  assistants give him a  _billion_  messages, in his life, just  _doesn't know_  what messages are supposed to  _sound_  like.

How the hell is Steve supposed to know what the fuck  _your friend called_  means?

"Okay. Thanks. Sorry." 

Dad points at the table, where there's an almost-blank sheet of printer paper, and the message just says  _THOMAS H_ , and the phone number underneath starts out  _872_ , and Dad adds, still looking at the TV, "He said you wouldn't have the number. You boys don't talk, these days?" 

"Not really." 

Dad asks, like he  _really_  doesn't know, because,  _God_ , of  _course_  he doesn't know, how the fuck  _would_  he know, "Who were you living with?" 

Mom's looking at her phone when she sighs, "I  _told_  you, he moved in with  _Billy—_ "

"He doesn't  _know_  anyone named Billy, so I  _assumed_  you didn't know what the  _hell_ you were talking about _—_ "

" _Oh_ , Jesus,  _really_?! Is that what you assumed?! _I_ don't know who our son's fucking  _friends_  are?!" 

"How many friends  _is_  that, now? Two, maybe  _three_? I don't know if you're _aware_ , but  _your_   _son_  is a  _real_  piece of work _—_ "

This is probably going to get loud, and it's not even really  _about_  Steve, like. 

They don't even notice when he goes upstairs, so. 

 _Whatever_. 

 

 

 

 

Maybe Billy doesn't _like_ Steve, but he's always been good at _pretending_ that he does, and. 

Right now, that feels like enough. 

Steve picks a voicemail, aims for one of the shorter ones, because how pissed is Billy _really_ gonna be if he's only got a few seconds, right?

Billy sounds drunk, sounds _so_ drunk that Steve misses him more  _already_ , when he starts, _I didn't mean to scare you, baby. Is that what happened? You got scared? That's okay. Just call me back. Please?_

Billy sounds drunk in the next couple of shorter messages, too, and that's _weirdly_ nice, like. 

Billy's _sweet_ when he's drunk.

 _Or_ , he's really awful, but.

He's _mostly_  sweet.

And then there's a voicemail that's just Billy, drunk, _real_ fucking drunk, slurring,  _you think I fucking hurt you? You have no fucking idea; I'm gonna fucking teach you_ , before the message abruptly cuts out, and. 

It's  _stupid_ , because that one was fucking _terrifying_ , and it _barely_  even lasted any time at _all_ , but. 

Steve plays the next one, _anyway_ , even though he _shouldn't_ , even though it's _stupid_ , because he's _upset_ , and he _misses_ Billy, and he doesn't want to feel so  _alone_ , and.

And if Billy sounded fucked up during this one, too, it would be different, maybe.

But Billy sounds sober and serious and calm when he says, _Daddy misses you so much, baby_.

And it probably _shouldn't_ , but.

That one feels like it's the worst one.

 

 

 

 

Steve spends two hours locked in his room, listening to his sleep playlist through his headphones, sinking his teeth into his palm to keep quiet, cutting himself up. 

It's December.

It's cold outside. 

He wears long sleeves every day. 

It's fine. 

He's  _fine_. 

 

 

 

 

Steve brushes his teeth, cleans up his arm, puts on a bunch of Band-Aids.

He doesn't really  _want_  to, but this isn't  _really_  his house, so that's not  _really_  his room, so that's not  _really_  his bed.

He should try to avoid getting any blood on the sheets, like.

Just to be  _respectful_.

But leaving his room was a _mistake_ , because it's late, and Mom and Dad had a fight, so Mom is already asleep when Dad catches Steve in the hallway, says they need to have a talk about his future, and he tries to set up a fucking  _appointment_  with Steve, like,  _when are you free_ , as if Steve's not  _always_  free, as if Dad doesn't already fucking  _know_  that Steve's always free, and Steve's never felt like he could  _seriously_  kill anybody, but he  _really_  wants to kill his dad, so.

He starts walking back to his room, and Dad raises his voice when he starts telling Steve that he's acting _disrespectful_ , and he  _really_  fucking means it, too, Steve can  _tell_ , but he's  _not_ gonna say he's sorry, because he's  _not_  sorry, because he fucking  _doesn't_  respect his dad. 

He  _can't_  respect somebody who hates him. 

That doesn't make  _sense_. 

And Dad's a _lot_ like Billy, because they both hate all the same shit about Steve, but he's not _intense_ like Billy is, not _most_ of the time, anyway, and.

Not right _now_ , either, so it's _not_ weird that Dad lets Steve go to his room.

The door makes this loud clicking noise when it locks, and Dad's  _gotta_  be able to hear it, since he's still  _right there_.

He doesn't  _say_  anything, though, so.  

Steve thinks about crying, thinks about cutting, thinks about sleeping. 

He doesn't think he can do any of that. 

He probably needs to rehydrate, or something, before he can cry, and he can't cut, because he  _just_ fucking did that, and it was  _dumb_ to do it before Dad went to sleep, except the guy  _hates_ talking to Steve, so Steve just  _didn't_ think it was gonna be a problem, and, hey, _maybe_ he felt a little bit better after, but he definitely doesn't  _anymore_ , so. 

He _isn't_ going to be able to sleep, so he grabs his phone, gets in bed, and.

Maybe this is a bad time to finally start _really_ listening to Billy's messages, when Steve  _already_  feels so fucked up, because. 

Some of the messages are Billy, sounding strangely softly quiet, like maybe he's hiding under his blankets, when he says shit like,  _I fucking miss you. I didn't mean to be an asshole, okay? I never fucking. Okay, look, like, full disclosure, I totally mean to, sometimes, but I didn't, last week, baby, I'm. I don't know what happened, you. I thought you were gonna leave, and I just. Look, baby, I. I need you to call me back_.

But then, some of the messages are Billy, sounding fucking  _furious_ , when he says shit like,  _I don't know why you think you get to just fucking leave, like. Like I fucked up, when it's you, every fucking time, and. And you fucking act like you don't fucking care about anything, like you don't care about me, and, what? I'm supposed to, like, fucking praise you for it? Why would I do that? Do you even get that you act like you're fucking crazy? Why the fuck do you expect me to put up with that? I mean, shit, Harrington, I'm not saying I'm too fucking good for you, but, like, goddamn, I'm not not saying it._

And some of the messages are Billy, sounding like he's outside, somewhere, with cars honking and a bunch of different types of music playing and Billy raising his voice over all of it, when he says shit like, _I know everybody says this, and it's always bullshit, whatever, but. I honestly didn't know it was a big deal, like. My dad always got a little rough with my mom, and it's, like. I don't know, you know? I swear, I thought people just didn't fucking talk about it, but everybody still went home and did it, anyway._

 

 

 

 

Billy's got a soothing voice.

It's deep, and it's confident, and it makes Steve feel like he's _safe_. 

 _So_ , maybe they weren't really _nice_ messages, but. 

Steve sorta fell asleep listening to them, _anyway_?

He's awake, now, though, so he picks up his phone to see what's up, and Billy is _soothing_ , he makes Steve feel _safe_ , he stops Steve from feeling like he's all alone, _right_?

Except Steve feels like his _heart_ is about to stop when he suddenly hears a _horrifyingly_ clear, "Oh. Hey," and Billy's not _here_ , of _course_ he's not here, he's just on the phone, because Steve grabbed his phone _with his eyes closed_ , like the fucking _moron_  Billy always says he is, and so he answered an incoming call, by mistake, and. It sounds like Billy's been taking lessons from Mom and Dad, when he snaps, real  _loud_ and firm and annoyed, " _Steven_ ," so.

"Hi, what's. Hi?" 

" _Hi_ ," Billy sighs. "How are you?" 

"Tired. How are you?" 

"It's three forty-five." 

"I didn't ask you what fucking  _time_  it was," Steve mutters, but he doesn't _realize_  what he's saying until he's already _done_  saying it, and. "Sorry. I'm _sorry_ , I just got up. Sorry. Hi. How _are_ you, what's. What's going on?" 

"I was just seeing Carlos."

"Okay?" 

"So, his office is, like? I have to pass by that turn for your parents' place." 

"Okay?" 

"Max told me you've been staying there, again." 

Steve's not too sure why the hell Max would  _do_  that, except. 

Billy's her _brother_ , and. 

Steve's not  _anything_ , so. 

"Okay." 

Billy makes this annoyed noise, low and deep in his throat, like maybe he  _forgot_  about this, about Steve being stupid, and bad at conversations, and bad at fucking  _everything_.

" _Look_ , Harrington, I need to talk to you. I'm coming over in ten minutes, alright?" 

"Can I meet you somewhere? I'm. Like, I'm _not_ gonna make you wait around for me; I can be _right_ there," and he thinks Billy's gonna say no, so. "My dad just says I can't have people over, so." 

" _Fine_ ," Billy sighs. "You want to go eat?"

 

 

 

 

The froyo place is basically a ghost town when Steve walks in, like. 

It's  _totally_  empty, except for the kid behind the counter, who looks bored as shit, and Billy, who is on the other side of the room, pumping a  _crazy_  amount of eggnog-flavored frozen yogurt into a cup.

"Carlos drug test you?" 

" _Yeah_ ," Billy yawns.

Steve rolls his eyes. "And you got high  _right_   _after_?" 

"Let me  _live_ , bro."

 _Bro_? 

Bro, not  _Harrington_ , or _King Steve_ , or  _baby_ , or. 

Or  _anything_ , so. 

So, like,  _what_? 

They're just  _not_  together, anymore? 

 _Yeah_ , it's been, like, a _week_ , or.

 _Two weeks_ , without that night at the apartment, and _maybe_ that's a long time, but. 

Steve just didn't feel _okay_ , he just needed some _space_ , but he was gonna go  _back_ , and.

And Billy is  _stoned_ , so it's not like they can talk this out, anyway.  

"Okay," says Steve, and he wants to kiss Billy's neck, just real quick, just _once_ , just in case he doesn't ever get to do it again, except Billy's wearing a scarf, so.

He _can't_ do that.

He's never seen Billy wear a scarf, before.

He can't believe Billy even _owns_ one.

Maybe it's new?

Steve presses a quick kiss against Billy's cheek, instead, then wanders off to check out what other seasonal flavors are out.

 _Yeah_ , Billy's obviously getting enough froyo for them to  _share_ , but Steve is  _not_  eating eggnog froyo.

That's  _gross_.

He  _likes_  eggnog, but Steve's got his  _limits_.

 

 

 

 

Billy's _so_ stoned that he lets Steve drive the Camaro home. 

Except, like. 

When they pull into the parking lot, though, Billy laughs, " _Shit_ , no, I'm _not_  sleeping here," and Steve thinks he's about to admit that, like, _yeah_ , he hasn't been kissing Steve, or touching him, or calling him  _baby_ , because he's with someone new, someone  _better_ , and they're living together, and whoever it is, they're, like, buying him _scarves_ , like they think Billy's a scarf type of guy, like they don't fucking know him at _all_ , and. "Dad threw me two hundred bucks to keep an eye on Max while he's gone for work." 

"Oh. Susan went with him?" 

" _No_ ," Billy smirks. "I'm supposed to be looking out for her,  _too_. Thinks she's stepping out on him." 

"Is she?" 

" _Goddamn_ , who  _cares_? More fucking power _to_ her, if she _is_."  

 

 

 

 

Susan's not at home, but Max is.

She's texting in the living room, in her pajamas, listening to some bastardized version of _Take Me To Church_ , and when she sees Steve, she yanks a blanket off the back of the couch, shouts, " _Jesus_ , Billy! We fucking _talked_ about this shit; I'm not fucking  _dressed_!" 

"Then,  _stay_  in your goddamn  _room_ , bitch!" Billy pulls Steve into his old room, shoves Steve down onto the bed, grins, " _Hey_  there, pretty boy." 

"Hey," and Steve thinks, _hey, babe_ , and he thinks, _hey, Hargrove_ , and.

And he thinks, _hey, Daddy_ , and he _hates_ it, and he feels _gross_ , and nothing is even _happening_.

Billy isn't even _doing_ anything, yet, but Steve _already_ wants to leave.

 _God_.

Steve is the worst boyfriend in the _world_. 

Billy gets on the bed, too, licks his lips, hums, " _Fuck_ , you look good." 

That's bullshit, though.

Steve looks _bad_. 

Even his  _hair_  looks bad. 

"I look like I'm dead." 

"You _always_ look like that. I  _like_  it.  _Really_  sexy." Billy leans over Steve, almost falls  _right_  down on top of him, catches himself on his forearms, like, "Give me a kiss." 

"I thought you needed to  _talk_ to me."

" _Jesus_ , Harrington," Billy groans. "It’s been, like, a  _million fucking years_ , and your man says he wants to  _talk_? He’s  _trying_ to get some ass, alright? Come on.  _One_ kiss?"

"Nah."

"One  _tiny_ little kiss?"

Steve bites down on a grin, turns his head to the side when Billy tries to steal a kiss, _anyway_ , gets Billy whining, " _Yo_ , like, why the hell you trying to  _diss_ me when I just want to  _kiss_ you?"

"You  _gotta_ get past your love for dumb old R&B songs."

"You  _need_ to know, King Steve, that I am just never ever  _ever_ going to do that," Billy breathes, right before he manages to plant a kiss onto Steve’s mouth, starts licking his way in, and Billy trashed the gross eggnog-flavored froyo after, like,  _three_ bites, and just ate most of Steve’s, instead, which was vanilla with caramel syrup and rainbow sprinkles, so he tastes fucking  _delicious_ , and it’s _only_ been two weeks, so Steve shouldn’t be able to  _miss_ this already, and he hadn’t actually thought about how much he missed it at  _all_ , until right the fuck  _now_ , now that Billy’s touching him like he does sometimes, not  _always_ , but  _sometimes_ , when he’s drunk or tired or fucked-out in the dark in the middle of the night, runs his hands all over Steve like he thinks he fucking  _owns_ him, and it feels  _good_.

"I didn't take a shower today, or, um.  _Or_  yesterday," Steve's like, because it's _true_ , but. _Also_ because Billy is starting to unzip Steve's hoodie, and Steve's not wearing long sleeves under it, so. That  _can't_  happen. "This is gonna be, like, the grossest sex of your  _life_." 

"We could take a shower  _together_." 

"Sounds dangerous." 

" _Yeah_ , but  _I'm_  dangerous," Billy grins. 

 _God_ , he's good. 

They  _could_  fuck, right?

Steve could  _probably_  get Billy to forget about taking  _all_  of his clothes off, and then they could fuck, and everything would be  _fine_.

It's been a while.

Steve  _really_  wants to get laid. 

Through the door, Max screams, " _Billy_! I need a ride to Jane's house!" 

" _Fuck you_!"

The door opens, and Max is there, wearing shoes and a coat and a weirdly-determined expression on her face, and she's like, "If you won't fucking  _do_ anything for anybody, what's the fucking  _point_  of you even _being here_?!" 

Billy looks like he wants to hit _someone_ , and Steve _really_ doesn't want it to be him, but he _also_ doesn't want it to be Max, so. 

" _I_  could drive you?"

" _No_ ," Max snaps. "You  _can't_." 

" _Hey_ ," Billy's like, getting out of bed, grabbing a jacket to pull over his shirt. "Show some  _fucking_  respect." 

"Or  _what_ , asshole?!" 

"Or I'll  _fucking_  make you, Maxine. What the  _fuck_  is wrong with you? You think Harrington  _has_  to drive you places, or do you think he's being fucking  _nice_  to you?"

"His car's not here." Max backs out of the room, going, quick and nervous and quiet, "I  _saw_ , it's  _not_  outside, so. He. Steve  _can't_  drive me, Billy; he doesn't have his  _car_." 

Billy slams the door shut, turns around, looks at Steve, sighing, "I have to go handle that."

"Okay?"

Steve starts to get off of the bed, but Billy _immediately_ comes back to push Steve right back down onto the mattress, like, "No, _you're_ staying _here_."

" _Billy—_ "

"Want you to wait for me."

"Why don't I just _—_ "

"I want to _think_ about you, here, in bed, _waiting_ on me to come back. _Alright_?"

Steve doesn't  _actually_  know how alright that _is_?

 _Yeah_ , Billy's dad isn't here, but it's still _weird_ to just hang around somebody else's parents' house, _alone_ , and. 

"You don't know how much I used to think about you, in here," and that's  _it_ , Steve is fucking  _into_  it, like.  _Fuck_ , it's  _sweet_ how Billy used to be so into him,  _right_? Steve didn't even really  _know_  about it, like. For a while, he thought maybe Billy had a thing for Nancy, so he was just _jealous_ , except when Steve mentioned it to her, Nancy laughed,  _God, you're an idiot_ , and. Like maybe he doesn't know that Steve's _already_ decided to stay, because maybe he's feeling all slow and stupid and tired, because maybe he's still _way_ too stoned to fucking _drive_ , Billy adds on, "Got some kush, if you want it?"

 _God_.

Billy's  _so_  fucking smart.

"Yeah, okay."

 

 

 

 

Steve goes through Billy's old CDs, lots of 50 Cent and Kanye West and that one weird two-in-one Outkast album, but then he's got some Katy Perry, some Justin Timberlake, the _very_ _first_ Robin Thicke album.

It's _almost_ embarrassing, but it's _also_ pretty cute, thinking about a little baby Billy, out in California, listening to all of this shit on an old-school iPod, or something, maybe, so. 

 _That's_ fun. 

Steve gets stoned, thinks about just jacking off before Billy gets back, decides it's gonna be too much work, so Robin Thicke's going, out of this ancient boombox, _I want you bad, because you walk pretty, because you talk pretty, because you make me sick_ , when the door opens, and Billy's back, coughing, "You couldn't open the fucking  _window_?"

"It's  _cold_ ," Steve points out. It's _December_ , in _Indiana_. It's fucking _freezing_. He lost about three layers before he got under the blankets that were on top of Billy's bed, so he's not cold _anymore_ , but. It _is_ cold. "Febreze _exists_ , so..."

"It's  _so_ good that you're  _so_ fucking hot, you _know_ that?"

Steve shrugs.

He still doesn't  _feel_ very hot, like.

Today, or, at _all_ , lately, actually.

Maybe that's obvious, because Billy drops back down on the bed, pushes most of the blankets down to the floor, goes, "Looking like a fucking  _snack_ , Harrington."

Steve _might_ be blushing, he _usually_ would be, but.

Billy's just trying to get laid.

He doesn't need to _lie_ , though.

" _Man_ , you  _know_ I'll fuck you, right? You don't gotta _talk_  to me like that."

Billy rolls his eyes. "Okay, hey,  _sometimes_ I just want to be nice to you, and you make it  _real_ hard for me."

It's _easy_ to be nice to people.

Maybe Billy's just not trying hard enough.

"How come you don't got a TV in here?"

"Max stole it when I left."

" _Sucks_ ," Steve yawns, reaches up to start unwinding the scarf from around Billy's neck, and. 

Billy catches Steve's hand in his, leans back, asks, "Does my baby want to watch TV?" It's _kinda_ gross, in that way that Billy's _always_ gross, lately, but. Steve nods, hesitantly, so. " _Fine_ , get up. Don't say I never _do_ anything for you." 

 

 

 

 

Max's room is just like Billy's room, except for how it's got a few more pink things in it, like the curtains, and this _dumb_ retro lava lamp, and a picture frame that _doesn't even have a picture in it_ , like. 

They're probably things that Max got as gifts from people who don't really _know_ her, like.

 _Grandma_ gifts, or something.

There _is_ a TV, though, so Billy and Steve sprawl out on the floor by the foot of Max's bed, watching  _The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air_ reruns.

There's this one episode where Tyra Banks is wearing this _amazingly_  cool denim jacket, so Steve slurs, "She could _—_ "

"Don't you fucking _dare_ say _kick me in the face_."

"I _love_ you hanging out with Max all the time," Steve decides, around a yawn. " _So_ fucking cute."

Billy rolls his eyes. "Cute to  _you_ , maybe. _I'm_ annoyed as shit, 'cause  _I'm_ out here losing  _all_ my goddamn brain cells."

" _Yeah_ , but, like. What do you, like. Even  _need_ those for?"

And maybe it's supposed to be _sweet_ , when Billy leans over, kisses Steve's hair, laughs, " _Who's_ gonna look after you if I can't fucking _think_ straight?"

 _Maybe_ , except. 

Steve mumbles, " _Why_  are you always doing that?"

"Doing _what_?"

"Like. I don't need anybody _looking after me_ , okay? I'm not a fucking _kid_ , I mean,  _Jesus_ , what, do you, like," and Steve _shouldn't_ say this, he  _really_ shouldn't do it, it's just that it's in his _head_ , and he  _can't_ get rid of it, and. Billy's gonna fucking  _lose it_ , Steve  _knows_ it, because  _Steve's_ not a violent person, but even  _he_ would lose it over this, but the _difference_ is, Steve's not fucking _into_ this kinda shit, and. And maybe Billy  _is_. "Do you, like, just  _like_ little kids, or something?"

Billy tenses up next to him, pulls away just a little bit, hisses, " _Excuse me_?"

"You  _always_  wanna treat me like I'm about  _four years old—_ "

" _Yes_ , 'cause you fucking  _act_  like you're four years old."

That's _not_ true, though.

It's not.

Steve shakes his head, because. 

No. 

" _No_ , like. Like you get  _really_  into it, like. You wanna be my  _daddy_ , and everything, like. Like," and,  _Jesus_ , Steve is  _really_ fucking setting himself up for a punch to the face, or  _more_  than that, probably, because. This was _already_ a gross thing, except Billy's not really saying _no_ , and that's making it _worse_ , and. And it's not like Billy lived _alone_ , before he lived with Steve, and, earlier, he just walked _right_ in here, even though this _isn't_ _his room_ , so. "Did you do that shit to  _Max_?" 

"What the  _fuck_  did you just say to me?" 

"Like. She's  _real_  scared of you, but. She still kinda _likes_ you? She copies _all_ the dumb shit you do, and, like. She does  _everything you say_ _—_ "

" _Yeah_ , Harrington, because she's my fucking  _sister_! Hey,  _listen_ , I'm  _sorry_  you don't know what having a  _family_ is even  _like_ , but it's not  _my_  fault, _so—_ " 

"But she's not  _really_  your sister, though." 

And Steve thought Billy would get pissed off, but he was _wrong_ , because Billy doesn't look _mad_ , he looks _amused_ , when he starts, "You  _really_ think you get to fucking talk shit to me, like, _right_ to my fucking  _face_? Like, _disgusting_ , and, also, actually,  _offensive_  shit about  _Max Mayfield_ , who,  _by the way_ , does not even fucking  _like_  you? She thinks it's  _fucking weird_  how much time you spend hanging around her and her friends, and _that's_  why I'm always telling you to quit it, 'cause they  _don't fucking want you around_ _—_ "

Except that's not _true_. 

Steve is _friends_ with Dustin, _and_ with the other guys, _and_ Max, and. 

And this is _mean_ , this is _bullshit_ , this is Billy talking shit just because he _knows_ that he _can_ , and Steve can't _take_ it, or.

He _won't_ take it, so.

He gets up to leave, but he _forgot_ about this, somehow, already, but. 

Billy really is a _lot_ stronger than Steve is, and _that's_ why he's able to stand up and grab onto Steve, shove him back against Max's dresser, and he holds him in place when he bites out, "No, _hey_ , I'm fucking  _talking_  to you. I don't know who you think is  _ever_  gonna put up with you the way I do. You think I treat you like a little kid?  _Fine_ , but only because every time I  _try_  to talk to you like an  _adult_ , you just _shut down_ , like you can't fucking  _hear_  me, like you don't  _understand_  the shit I'm saying to you, and I feel  _bad_ , you know that? I feel  _real fucking bad_ , like I'm doing something  _wrong_ , like I'm a  _bad person_ , just for trying to have a  _goddamn_  conversation with you, and that shit is  _draining_ , okay? So,  _yeah_ , I treat you like a kid, but only 'cause there is just  _no_  other way to handle you. _Now_ , you're going to shut your fucking _mouth_ , about me and Max, because you don't know  _shit_." 

Steve opens his mouth, because he's gonna apologize, like. 

He shouldn't have said that, about Max,  _fine_ , but she's always so  _scared_  of Billy, so Steve just wasn't _sure_ , but. 

_Fine_ , though.

Billy is  _right_ , he  _shouldn't_  have said it, and. 

He opens his mouth to apologize, except Billy must be thinking that Steve's gonna say something mean, because he adds, louder, faster, even  _worse_ than he was a second ago, "Do you think I  _like_  taking care of you, or, like. I  _like_  looking after you? Who the _fuck_ takes care of  _me_ , when I'm wasting all my time on  _you_?! I'm fucking  _tired_ , do you  _know_ that?! I shouldn't  _have_  to keep looking out for you, but I  _do_ , 'cause I goddamn  _know_  that  _nobody else_ is going to do it when I _stop_."

Steve waits for a minute, just to make sure Billy's done, before he tries, "Can I _go_ , now?"  

Billy grins, steps back, sneers, " _Oh_ , you can do whatever the  _fuck_  you want, _princess_ ," so.

He walks out, runs _straight_ into Susan, who's standing by the door, slipping her phone into her purse, asking, "Everything okay?" 

Did Susan _just_ get home, or did she _hear_ all of that? 

Shit, even if she _just_ walked in, she still probably heard _some_ of it, right? 

Why the _fuck_ is she asking Steve if everything is _okay_? 

 _Nothing_ is okay. 

"Yeah. Hi, Mrs Hargrove."

"Is...Maxine home?"

Steve shakes his head. "She's at, um. That girl's house? Jen? I think." 

"Right, of course." He doesn't really know why, but Susan tries again, "Are you _really_ okay?"

Steve's _not_ okay. 

Steve's about to fucking _die_ , probably, _maybe_ , he doesn't _know_ , but. 

He _thinks_ so. 

He lies, "Yes. I'm sorry, I gotta go," and he thinks he _maybe_ brought a jacket with him, but maybe he _didn't_ , because he's not wearing one _now_ , but it's _fine_ , because he just really just needs to _leave_ , and he can hear Susan talking, but she's probably not talking to _him_ , because he's pretty sure he can hear Billy saying something, _too_ , but Steve doesn't know _what_ Billy's saying, because he's not listening on fucking _purpose_ , because he doesn't fucking _want_ to know what sorta shit Billy is saying, and. 

Billy calls, " _Hey_ ," grabs Steve's arm, twists him around, pushes Steve's hoodie at him. They're only halfway down the street from Billy's house. That doesn't feel like it's far enough, but. Across the entire fucking _state_ probably wouldn't feel far enough. "What happened to your arm?"

"Nothing."

"Why would I _ask_ you about it if it was _nothing_? It doesn't fucking _look_ like nothing; it  _looks_  like something that needs  _stitches_."

 _Yeah_ , except Steve's not _actually_ as stupid as Billy _thinks_ he is, so if he fucking needed _stitches_ , he would go see a _doctor_ , so.

He starts walking away, and Billy grabs him one more time, turns him around again, sighs, "It's _cold_ out here. Let me drive you, okay?"

 

 

 

 

Before Billy's even done parking outside of Steve's parents' house, he says, like everything is normal, like _nothing_ just happened, like Steve's just feeling crazy for no _reason_ , "Come give me a kiss." 

"Um." Mom and Dad's cars are both parked in the driveway, so. "My parents are home." 

"They're not  _watching us_." 

Steve used to say that kinda shit to girls. 

He said that kinda shit to Nancy all the time. 

He was an _asshole_ , back then, though, so.

Steve shakes his head, starts opening the passenger door, and for some reason, some  _dumb_  reason, he's not expecting Billy to lean over, get in close again, like, "What the  _fuck_  did I just say to you?" 

He seems  _real_  serious about it, and.

It's not like Steve actually  _cares_  about his parents catching them, so. 

He kisses Billy, keeps his eyes open so he can see it when Billy's eyes slip shut, murmurs into Billy's mouth, " _Okay_?" 

"Yeah, babe," except Billy reaches back to slide a hand into one of the back pockets on Steve's jeans, like, " _One_ more time, though." 

 

 

 

 

Steve knows from _experience_ that the cleaning people can work around him if he's just hiding in his room, but Dad has his assistant call  _three times_ to tell Steve to get the fuck out of the house while they're there, so. 

Steve leaves his car parked in the driveway, when he goes, because he _already_ wants to jump into traffic, and there's not _too much_ traffic in Hawkins, but he could easily _drive_ someplace else, and walking around Hawkins, alone, is _probably_ pretty safe.

Maybe he should take _more_ walks, in the future.

People _do_ that, _don't_ they?

They just, like.

Walk for _fun_?

He's thinking, like, maybe he could join a _group_ of people who do that, and then he would finally have some fucking _friends_ , except, then, like the worst karma _ever_ , he suddenly feels an arm around his shoulders, feels someone pulling him through a semi-crowded doorway, hears someone crowing, "The  _king_ has _arrived_!" 

Oh, _fuck_.

"Hey, asshole." 

" _Hey_!" Tommy's face is just this _huge_ wide white smile, and he's got, like, a  _million_  more freckles than he had the last time Steve saw him, when he demands, " _Man_ , I been trying to hit you up for  _months_ , where the  _fuck_  have you been?! You _know_ that we fucking said  _friends forever_ , right? What the  _hell's_  the matter with you?"

"Just been dating somebody, I don't know, I'm, like. _Real_ busy, so." 

" _Jesus—_ "

"Hey,  _no_ , it's not _—_ "

"Nancy  _fucking_  Wheeler _—_ "

" _No—_ "

" _No_? No,  _what_ , like, that's just your  _type_ , now? King Steve can _only_ get it up for stuck-up bitches who wanna hide him away from his  _best fucking friend_?!"

There's this teasing grin on Tommy's face, so.

He's not trying to be a dick.

He's just being _himself_.

Steve _almost_ misses him.

And Tommy's  _always_  been a little bit smaller than Steve, and  _just_  as bad at fighting as Steve is, so.

Steve shoves him, and Tommy shoves back, and they have a vaguely undignified fistfight, and Steve _wins_ , even though he can tell he's, like,  _seriously_  dehydrated, and. 

 _Anyway_.

They get kicked out of Starbucks. 

 

 

 

 

Tommy _really_ wants one of those weird new strawberry Frappuccinos, so they go to the only other Starbucks in town, the one where they used to share cups of hot chocolate, in middle school, and carve their names into the wooden tables with the tips of neon gel pens that they stole from Carol. 

Tommy is home for the day, but he's going back to college in the morning, and he told Steve four stories about DePaul before Steve got too bored to pretend to listen, so now Tommy's going, "So,  _Carol_ , I still fuck with Carol, and, like, I don't know,  _last week_? She's telling me  _she_  heard from  _Becky_ , who heard from  _Sienna_ , who heard from  _Gail_ ; you remember Gail?" 

"No?" 

"She's Gabby's sister, but, like. The  _ugly_  one?" 

"Gabi's  _ugly_  sister?" 

"No, the  _ugly_  Gabby!  _Her_  sister." 

Steve muses, "People  _gotta_  give their kids more unique names."

"You're _right_ , and you should _say_ it," Tommy agrees, sounding  _very_  intense, like _his_ name  _isn't_  Tommy, like _Steve's_ name  _isn't_  Steve, like they're both  _totally_  cool to talk shit about other people's names, or something. _God_. Okay. Steve  _really_  fucking missed this guy. "So, okay, _Gail_ said she saw you out by your mom and dad's, so, I was thinking about that, but I didn't call, 'cause I already called _before_ , and, like, _fuck_ , I'm not fucking _desperate_ , and then today, I wasn't doing  _shit_ , and I wanted a fucking drink, right? So then I saw you, and it was, like.  _Kismet_ , you know?" 

Steve doesn't know what _kismet_ means.

It sounds like a fake word.

He leans over the table to scoop some whipped cream off the top of Tommy's drink with his fingers.

He wasn't hungry when Tommy pulled out his wallet and offered to buy him something, but he sure as hell is _now_.

He's pretty sure he hasn't eaten anything all day.

" _Shit_ , Harrington, you  _fucking_  animal!"

Steve raises his eyebrows. "You still kiss your mama with that mouth?" 

"I kiss  _your_  fucking mama, oh my  _God_ ," and it's _such_ a stupid joke, it's _not even_ funny, but Steve just  _cracks up_ , anyway, and.

When he looks back at Tommy, Tommy's giving him this soft lazy maybe-stoned smile, except Tommy's _not_ stoned, Steve _knows_ Tommy, so he fucking _knows_ when he's stoned, and this guy is _not_ stoned, he's _definitely_ not, when he says that he's been wanting to see _Bohemian Rhapsody_ , except Carol won't go with him, because she heard that Freddie Mercury was gay in real life, but she's not sure if it's _true_ , and she can't just  _Google_  it because she  _doesn't_  want spoilers, but she  _does_  want to know if the cute guy from  _Mr Robot_  kisses any girls in the movie, because if he  _doesn't_ , going to the movies is  _basically_  a waste of nine bucks, but she  _won't_  Google it, because she  _doesn't want spoilers_. 

And that sounds dumb as hell, but.

 _Christ_ , it also sure as  _shit_  sounds like _Carol_ , so. 

 

 

 

 

Tommy gets them kicked out of the movies pretty fast, but Carol's already out for the night with some friends, and after he calls her five times in a row and shoots her, like, _twenty_ texts, she and her friends stop by the theater so Steve and Tommy can tumble into the back of somebody's old Acura, and Carol starts, loudly, " _Tommy_ , I  _swear_ , if you fucking tell me  _one_  goddamn thing about that  _fucking_  movie, you are  _never_  going to fuck me,  _ever again—_ "

"Stop  _fucking_  talking to me like that in front of  _Steve_!" 

" _Steve_  talks more shit about you than  _anybody_ ," Carol spits, like it hasn't been  _years_  since she and Steve were friends, or whatever. " _Fuck_  him, and  _fuck_  you, too!" 

" _Hey_ , I would  _love_  to fuck Steve, are you  _kidding_  me?  _He's_  not  _mean_   _to me—_ "

"He hasn't even  _talked_  to you in  _a million years_!" 

Steve raises his eyebrows. 

The girls are all dressed up, like maybe they're going into the city, or something, and Steve's about to ask if they would mind dropping him off in Loch Nora, first, but.

They're still _right_ off of Main Street.

He can get himself home from here, so.

"Hey, um, sorry, can I get out here?" 

"Uh, _yeah_? I guess, _sure_." The girl in the passenger seat looks kinda familiar, but Steve can't immediately put a name to her face, and he doesn't really want to waste a lot of energy _trying_ to, so. She tells the girl who's driving, "Hey, Steve's going, so just pull over? There's a spot open right there." 

"Right there? _Right there_ , where there's a fucking  _fire hydrant_?!" 

" _So_? Nothing's  _on fire_!"

Steve gets out of the Acura, and is fucking _shocked_ at how different the air is, now that he's not breathing in, like, _fifteen_ different types of perfume and hair spray and nail polish, so he's  _barely_  got his feet under him on the pavement when Tommy calls out, "Wait, _wait_ a sec! _Wait_ ," and he jumps out of the car, wraps his arms around Steve, tells him to, "Fucking _call_ me. We'll chill at Christmas, okay?"

"Yeah, man," Steve agrees, but it's _bullshit_ , because Tommy's whole family always fly in at Christmastime, _all_ of his older siblings, his grandparents on _both_ sides, fucking _everybody_ , so Tommy is always busy until, like, _mid-January_ , so. It's just  _never_ gonna happen. "Sounds good." 

Tommy jumps back into the car, and he's  _already_ moving on, screaming, "Freddie Mercury,  _may he fucking rest_ , was gay as  _shit_ , Carol!  _Like_ , he was  _obviously_  fucking gay, _that whole ass time_! Are you, like, for  _real_?!"

And Steve  _would_  laugh, like, there's a laugh _already_ caught in his throat, but he doesn't let it out, because Billy is walking out of the store _right in front of him_ , drinking a Pepsi, raising his eyebrows, like, "He's still keeping it real classy, huh?"

 

 

 

 

Billy is pretty quiet, driving Steve back to his parents' place, but then they hit Steve's street, and that's when Billy wants to know, "So, that was _Tommy_? What the hell were you doing with  _that_  asshole?"

Steve mumbles, "What am I doing with  _you_?" 

"What's that, pretty boy, a  _joke_? You got  _jokes_?" 

"He _wanted_ to hang out, and _—_ " 

"Why would he  _ever_  want to do that?" Steve doesn't know if Billy really means,  _why would Tommy wanna hang out with you_ , or if it's more like,  _why would anybody wanna hang out with you_ , but it sucks, either way, so it's _not_ like Steve's about to ask Billy to clear it up. "Where did you go?" 

"To the movies. And Starbucks." 

"Okay.  _Fine_." 

Steve didn't fucking  _ask_  if it was fine.

He  _knows_  it's fine.

He can do  _whatever he wants_.

Billy turns off his headlights right before he pulls up to the house, stops, turns to look at Steve in the near-dark, like, "I don't want you hanging around him, anymore." 

"Okay."

Maybe it's kinda obvious that Steve means,  _okay, but I don't care_ , and not,  _okay, then I won't_ , because Billy reaches over, grabs his wrist, like, "I _mean_ it. He's not your fucking  _friend_ , okay? Like. He used to say some  _really_  rough shit about you, in high school." 

So did _Billy_ , though. 

Billy was a _lot_ worse than Tommy, in high school. 

"Are you  _listening_  to me?" 

"Yeah, but, he was just home for _today_ , like. He lives in _Chicago_ , now."

Billy seems like he's thinking about that, for a while, until he lets go of Steve's arm, so Steve gets out of the Camaro, mumbles, "Thanks for driving me," and. 

Billy doesn't say anything _back_.

He just fucking  _leaves_. 

 

 

 

 

_ur late 4 carpool & mom wants 2 kno if she shld do it for u?? says its nbd jst wanted me 2 ask_

Steve stares at Dustin's text until his eyes start to cross, then pushes Call, pushes Speaker, hears Dustin chirping, "Steve!  _Hi_! You're _not_ dead!"

"Jury's still out, man. You okay if I'm a little late, or. I mean, I don't wanna put your mom out, but it's gonna be, like. Ten, fifteen minutes getting to your place, _so_ —"

"That's cool," Dustin says. "I can wait. You want me to tell everybody else to work it out with their parents?" 

Fuck,  _yes_ , Steve would fucking  _love_  that.

"Nah, I. Just tell them I'm running, like. A half hour late, okay? I'll get everybody ice cream, or something." 

"It's _December_." 

" _Whatever_. Time is  _fake_."

"Yeah,  _okay_ , except the  _weather_ is  _real_!"

 

 

 

 

Ms Henderson says someone else _just_ picked Dustin up, and that's _really_ annoying, because Dustin didn't fucking _tell_  Steve about that, so he smiles, nods, pretends like Dustin _did_ tell him, just so his mom won't yell at him, later, and then he pulls out his phone as he heads back to his car, so that  _he_ can fucking yell at Dustin. 

He hasn't really _yelled_  for a long time. 

He used to yell a _lot_.

Yelling might make him feel better. 

Except he has a text from Dustin, from about ten minutes ago, that just reads, _ABORT_

There's another text, from Dustin, from six minutes ago, reading, _SRY he jst came to the DOOR and mom let him in and!?_

And there's one last text, from Dustin, reading, _u shld still come tho?? its a PARTY!!!!!_

 

 

 

 

The Sinclairs rented out the bowling alley for Lucas' birthday, even though he's turning _sixteen_ , and probably could not give a _fuck_ about bowling. 

Dustin and Mike and Max and Will have taken over the table that's furthest away from the bowling lanes, and Steve doesn't know _how_ , but they are  _clearly_  all a little bit tipsy, when he walks up to them, sits down next to Will, hears Mike declare, "Never have I ever  _stolen anybody's girlfriend_." 

Max just drinks, smiles her cruel little smile, goes, " _Never have I ever_  kissed a boy, for a  _bet_ , like I think it's  _1997_." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. 

Will smiles when he whispers, "Eighties and nineties teen movies relied a  _lot_  on kissing-related dares and bets." 

Steve doesn't see how  _that's_  the weird part, but.

He's not the _only_ one. 

Across the table, Billy sneers, without looking up from his phone, " _Yeah_ , but all you assholes were born in, like,  _2015_."

" _Steve_ ," Dustin whines. "Can you  _please_  teach your  _boyfriend_  how  _time_  works?!"

" _You_  can shut the fuck up," Billy snaps, puts his phone away, looks at Steve like he's seen a _ghost_ , or something. That's fair, though. Steve sorta _feels_ like a ghost. "I don't know what the hell you thought you were  _doing_ , kissing somebody else's man,  _anyway_ , like. What's  _wrong_  with you?"

Dustin's jaw drops.

He looks at Steve, like _Steve_ is supposed to  _do_  something, but Steve literally has  _no_  idea what's happening, so.

He keeps his mouth shut.

Dustin processes that _incredibly_ quickly, then shrieks, " _He_  kissed  _me_!" 

Steve offers, "Yeah, buddy,  _listen_ , it's  _cool_ , okay? No one  _cares_."

" _Billy_  cares!" 

"I  _really_  don't." Billy glances over at Max, then at Steve, then stands up, muttering, "I'm going to go smoke." 

And _nobody_ here cares what Billy does, except for _Steve_ , so. 

 

 

 

 

" _So_ , you still, uh. Babysitting, or, like.  _Housesitting_ , I guess?" And Billy just _nods_ , so. "When's your dad getting back?" 

"Saturday." 

It's _cute_ that Billy picked everybody up today, because he didn't _have_ to, right?

He's being _real_ cute. 

Steve wants to kiss him, like, a _lot_.

But _Billy_ doesn't want to kiss _him_ , Steve can _tell_ , because Billy's _barely_ interested in talking to him, and that _sucks_ , because he's  _gotta_  make Billy like him, again, because he doesn't really have any other _options_.

 _What_ , like he's really gonna be able to find somebody _else_?

How the hell is he gonna do  _that_? 

Steve's  _never_  had to do that before.

He's never  _been able_  to do that before. 

The only other time he was alone, like this, he didn't have to do _anything_ , because Billy was just _there_ , and he just _took over_ , and started taking care of Steve, because.

Because _no one else_ was gonna do it, _so_. 

It's fucked up that Steve wants to force Billy to have to do that  _again_ , but.  

 _Fuck_ , he doesn't wanna be _alone_ , he wants Billy to _wanna_ take him back, except he _doesn't_ know how to make it happen.

The last time Steve fucked up a relationship, he _tried_ to make it right, but Nancy was already into Jonathan, even though she _always_  swore that she _wasn't_ into him, and. 

Steve could buy Billy some flowers?

Steve could tell Billy that he's sorry for getting him arrested, and for being so dumb, and for taking forever to learn how to give good blowjobs?

He could _do_ that, except it _probably_ wouldn't matter, _right_? 

Billy is fucking _gorgeous_ , and he's _smart_ , and he can be _so fucking nice_ , when he wants to be, so, like. 

Billy could find somebody he _really_ likes, somebody who's gonna do _everything_ he wants in bed, somebody who's good enough to _deserve_  to be with Billy. 

And that person is _not_ Steve, that's _never_ gonna be Steve, and he knows it, he _does_ , but. 

He just really fucking _wants_ to be with Billy.

"Um,  _hey_ , so, do _you_ know what's up with, like. Max, and Dustin, and everybody?" 

"Wheeler's girl made Max some playlist, that's, like, gay as all  _shit_ , so now they're in _love_ , and, like, to get  _back_  at her, _Wheeler_ made out with _Sinclair_ , and Sinclair told _Henderson_ , and I don't get _why_ , but Henderson _kissed Sinclair_ , and everyone hates _everyone else_ , but they _aren't_ talking about it." 

" _Wow_ ," and because Billy suddenly looks borderline suicidal, now that he's realized that he's _officially_ somebody who knows all about the  _totally_  boring lives of a bunch of teenagers, Steve's like, " _Love and Hip Hop: Hawkins_." 

Billy tips his head back when he lets out a loud delighted cackle, turns to grin at Steve, like, " _Christ_." Steve smiles back at him, because he forgot, he fucking  _forgot_ , but sometimes, a  _lot_  of the time, Billy's smiles are fucking  _contagious_ , and. And Billy shouldn't be able to _smile_ when he says something like, "It wasn't Max; it was my ex."

"... _okay_?"

"She was older than me, so. It wasn't _weird_ , and. I came back here, and that was it."

"Okay."

It's _not_ okay, though.

Like, _yeah_ , Billy's _acting_ like it's okay, but Steve has got a  _lot_  of fucking questions about that, but Billy just takes one last drag off his smoke, drops it into the snow, offers, "Landlord hit me up, yesterday. Says our mail was, like? Overflowing the mailbox, so. We have to go get it from the leasing office." 

"Oh. Okay. I'll do it." 

"Great. Why, uh. How long are you gonna keep on crashing with your parents?" 

"Um." Steve has no idea. Until he  _dies_ , probably. "Do you actually  _care_?" 

" _Jesus_ , Harrington, not  _really_? Just pick up the fucking mail." 

 

 

 

 

Steve knows _nothing_ about Billy's ex, except that she's a girl, she's apparently older than Billy, she probably called him _Daddy_. 

Billy must have really liked that, if he's trying to do it with Steve, _too_ , and. 

It's just, like. 

If there was somebody Billy was doing that with _before_ , it's not about _Steve_.

Steve could be _anybody_ , so.

 _Maybe_  Billy just acted like he was into Steve because he thought Steve would be dumb enough to do whatever he said.

And he was _right_ , because. 

 _God_ , Steve _has_ been doing everything Billy says, for _months_ , and if they hadn't gone to the Byers' for Thanksgiving, he probably would've just _kept_ doing it, and. 

And he doesn't know what to do. 

He texts,  _sry can u get a ride back w the sinclairs?_

Dustin doesn't text back, just sticks his head out the door after a couple minutes, asks, "Can we just _go_? I'm tired, anyway."

Steve just wants to be alone.

But Dustin's _cool_ , Dustin's _always_ been cool, and Steve actually feels like _shit_ for ignoring him, lately, so. 

"Sure."

 

 

 

 

He doesn't pick up the mail. 

  

 

 

 

It's late in the morning, and Steve hasn't slept for a while, so he's got his sleep playlist quietly easing out of his phone, from where it's resting on top of the sink.

He doesn't think it's going to do very much. 

It's getting harder and harder to sleep, lately, and Steve is pretty sure it's  _just_  because he misses Billy  _that_  fucking much.

Like, earlier, he was trying to figure out what was happening on  _Love and Hip Hop: New York_ , and he  _suddenly_  just started thinking about how, like, since he and Billy were together for a _pretty_ long time before the sex thing turned into a _problem_ , like. 

 _Well_ , maybe Billy only needs it  _sometimes_ , and Steve can _do_ that for him, if it's just  _sometimes_ , like, fine,  _whatever_ , maybe he won't  _like_  it, but he can  _pretend_  to like it, and then everything will be _fine_ , again.

Except that's fucking  _crazy_ , so.

Steve had to focus on something that was _less_ crazy, like _actually_ drowning to death, maybe, so he's taking a bath when he hears this loud noise out in the hall, and he doesn't know what the _fuck_ it is, because no one's home except for _him_ , and.

And Billy is pushing into the bathroom, looking tired and drunk and upset, and he closes the toilet, sits down on top of it, like, "Why's there some, like,  _random_  table in that _fucking_ hallway?" 

"Um. What the  _fuck_?" 

"It made me  _fall_." 

Steve rolls his eyes, shakes his head, waits. 

He waits, and he waits, and he  _waits_ , and.

And Billy tips his head forward, pulls his hair into possibly the _messiest_ bun Steve has _ever_ seen, and Steve's about to go,  _oh my God, please get your hair cut, I swear it's not going to, like, kill you, or whatever you're so fucking worried about_ , when Billy mutters, "I didn't _mean_ that shit, last week." 

"Okay?" 

" _Okay_ , so. That's all I've got, I don't know. I _miss_ you."

When Billy shrugs, it's just this helpless little twitch of his shoulders that makes him look like he's, like,  _five_ , or something.

Steve's not sure if Billy's  _always_  been this cute, or if, like, he just  _seems_  cuter since Steve's been thinking about him, since Steve's been _wanting_ him, since he's been  _missing_  him so bad.

"So, you're, like.  _Drunk_ , or what?" 

Billy stands up again, sits down on the tiled floor, rests his head against the edge of the tub as he confesses, "I _mean_ , I took some of your anxiety shit? I wasn't, like, _in_ your fucking _room_ , again, I just." 

And Steve just  _doesn't_  believe that, like, yeah,  _no_ , Billy almost  _definitely_  fucked with Steve's room, but Steve still lies, "No, that's fine, whatever." 

He gives Billy a minute to figure it out on his own, but.

That's _dumb_.

If he doesn't  _tell_  Billy to go away, Billy just  _won't_  leave.

"So, um. I'm taking a bath?"

Billy tilts his head up and back, looks at Steve upside down, yawns, "I can _see_ that." 

"Could you, like. Like, I wanna, just. Be by myself? In here." 

Billy gets up, stumbles a little, catches himself by the doorway, like, "Where do you want me to  _go_?" 

 

 

  

  

The stupid faux-leather satchel Billy's been carrying around since high school is on top of the dining room table, and Billy's sitting there, too, vaping and looking miserable, when he reports, "Your dad just left." 

"Oh. I thought he left already." 

" _Yeah_ , King Steve? How did you think I got  _in_  here?" 

Steve  _thought_  Billy broke in, because he didn't  _think_  his dad would just let some random guy he'd never fucking _met_  into the house without _saying_ anything about it, but, like.

Fine.

That's  _fine_. 

"He's a real asshole, isn't he?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You know, this whole judging my family thing is a  _really_  weird way to say,  _I miss you, let's have sex_." 

"Maybe I'm  _not_  saying that."

If Billy _doesn't_ miss Steve, and he _doesn't_ want to fuck, what the hell is he fucking  _doing_  here? 

Billy pushes his bag toward Steve, which is weird, but there's really nothing  _in_  it, except for a king-sized pack of white chocolate Reese's Cups, Billy's Samsung, and. 

"Is this the mail?" 

"Yeah." 

"You went to get the _mail_?" 

" _Somebody_  had to," Billy's like. "I already threw out all the dumb shit, so that's just, like.  _Your_  stuff." 

Steve flips through the mail, eats a few Reese's Cups, tries, " _Thanks_? So, um..."

" _Look_ , I'm sorry I got so. I  _get_  so jealous. About.  _Okay_ , like, I didn't mean to fucking  _lose_  it, like that, but. Next time, you  _get_  to hit me back, okay? I thought you  _wanted_  to fight, so I thought.  _Shit_ , I didn't think you were just gonna fucking  _take_  it." 

And Steve  _wants_  to be really mad about this, he wants to  _scream_ about this, but. 

He's fucking _tired_ , and, _anyway_ , Billy's _still_ looking all tiny and vulnerable and _sad_ , so. 

Steve sighs, " _Billy_ , why would I  _ever_  wanna fucking  _hurt_  you?"

And then, like he thinks it  _actually_  makes sense as an answer to Steve's question, Billy replies, "I told you I loved you, and you just pretended like I  _didn't_ , and it  _fucking_  pissed me off, and I've been an asshole, kind of, like. Ever _since_ that, I  _know_ , and. I  _swear_ , I thought. You were  _supposed_  to hit me back." 

 

 

 

 

Steve hasn't been sleeping in his room since he got home. 

He _tried_ to, at first, but it felt like trying to sleep inside of a fucking _time capsule_ , even though he only moved out a few months ago, so he's been hanging out in his room, and then crashing in the guest room, when everyone's asleep, so.

They _should_ be in the guest room, but Steve doesn't know if this is _real_ , or if Billy's going to _stay_ , or if Billy's going to turn into a total dick, again, in, like, _two seconds_ , but if Billy fucks up in the guest room, Steve's  _not_  going to be able to sleep in there, anymore, not even if he listens to a  _million_  dumb piano songs, so. 

They're in the den, which is basically the same as the living room, except it's further back into the house, and nobody is _ever_ in here.

When he was little, Steve used to build blanket forts in here, and he used to hang out in here when his parents would throw parties that no one brought their kids to, and he used to be so  _alone_ , when he was in here, so.

If Billy fucks up in here, it's going to be  _easy_  to never come in here again, so Steve is  _never_  going to have to think about it again.

Billy might _not_ fuck up, though, because he's doing pretty fucking good, so far. 

Steve's on the couch, holding a hand up to his mouth, even though he _knows_ Billy doesn't like that.

Billy likes it _loud_ , he likes  _Steve_  loud, but Billy is busy sucking Steve's dick, so he _can't_ really complain about it.

Billy is almost  _definitely_  gonna give Steve a hard time about it  _later_ , but it doesn't matter, because he is just  _so_ fucking good at this, and  _every_  fucking time Steve thinks he's gonna come, Billy stops and waits for _forever_ before he gets back to it, and Steve fucking  _hates_  him, but he hates himself _more_ , because,  _Jesus_ , why is Steve _so_ into this, like. _Why_ doesn't he just want to be treated  _nicely_? This isn't  _normal_ , there's something _wrong_ with Steve, and Billy was _right_ , because Steve _can't_ take care of himself, because Steve fucking _likes_ this, he wants _more_ of it, and he _shouldn't_ , he _really_ fucking shouldn't, and. 

And Billy scrapes his nails down one of Steve's thighs, pulls off again, rasps out, "You thinking about me?" 

"Yeah," Steve replies, but it comes out sounding like nothing around his wrist, so he drops it, repeats, "Yeah.  _Yeah_ , always." 

But that's a _lie_ , because Steve's just thinking about himself.

There's this line in  _The Sound_  that Steve's been thinking about, on and off, ever since Billy played it,  _it's not about reciprocation, it's just all about me_ , and.

Yeah, _no_ , maybe that song was on the Nancy playlist, but that line _never_  actually reminded him of _Nancy_.

That one was  _always_  about Steve. 

Billy licks his lips, smiles, not hungry or angry or mean, just soft and sweet and maybe a little bit tired, asks, "You want to _come_ now, baby? You _ready_?" 

Steve's ready, Billy  _knows_  he's fucking ready, because he's been  _ready_  for about thirty minutes, by now, probably,  _minimum_ , and Steve's _not_ going to suck Billy off, when he's done, because he's _tired_ , he's  _so_  fucking tired, _Jesus_ , he hasn't really been _sleeping_ , he didn't even  _think_  about it, but, _yeah_ , he's going to come, Billy's going to  _finally_  fucking _let_ him come, and Steve's going to fucking _pass out_ , so.

"Yeah,  _yes_ , please,  _please_ , come on," and Steve waits until he can feel it, until he's _right_ on the edge, again, before he thinks about saying it.

It would be so  _easy_.

And Steve's still annoyed with Billy.

He's still  _angry_ with Billy.

He wouldn't feel that _bad_ about it.

He could open his mouth, get really loud the way Billy likes, could moan,  _Billy, Jesus, fuck, please, yes, please, yes, yes, I love you._

He could _do_ that, right?

After everything that happened with Nancy, Steve didn't think he could  _ever_  do something like that, not to _anybody_ , no matter  _what_.

But he was _wrong_. 

He could say,  _I love you_ , just to fuck with Billy's head. 

He _really_ could.

He _could_ , and so he bites down on his wrist again when he comes, and Billy sucks him through it, swallows, gets up to sit down on the couch with Steve.

And Steve was tired _before_ so he's tired, now, _too_ , and it feels _good_ when Billy tugs him into his arms, pulls Steve's wrist down, ghosts past the one really embarrassing cut that's still slowly fixing itself up to tap his fingers over the indents of Steve's biggest strongest  _sharpest_ teeth.

And he  _knows_  he didn't say it, but.

Billy's acting like he did, _anyway_ , like he's not sure where they stand, like he's lost and scared and _worried_ , like he needs Steve to tell him what's going on. 

That's what a good person would do, _right_?

Maybe Steve's never been a good person, but he's been _trying_ to be, ever since Barb died, ever since he started hanging out with Dustin, ever since he got with Billy.

He _keeps_ trying to be better, to be _good_ , and.

And Steve is _still_ a terrible person, because _all_ he can think is that it's fucking  _good_  that Billy doesn't get it.

It's  _good_  that Billy doesn't know what the fuck is going on.

Steve spent  _months_  with Billy, and  _he_  never knew what the _fuck_ was going on,  _either_. 

 

 

 

 

Steve wakes up alone, but his phone is vibrating with a text, so.

He reaches for it, slides to read,  _yr turn 4 d &d so you owe me _

_r u texting and driving??_

After a minute, Billy answers, _idc if these ppl die in a car crash_

Steve rolls his eyes and texts back,  _jst dont kill dustin bc hes my fav 1_

_idk why you think i dont already kno tht_

_im supposed 2 assume u know everything?_

_that wld rly make my life easier tbh?_ He starts and deletes a few  _increasingly_  dumb messages, before he gets another one from Billy that just says, _ok lights changing te amo_

Steve demands,  _do u think im EVER opening google translate??_

 

 

 

 

It's dark outside, when Steve turns the light on, opens up the front door, tries, "Um, my dad's probably gonna get here, real soon?"

Billy just _shrugs_ , like he's not  _listening_ , like he doesn't  _get_  it, and.

Steve fucking  _hates_  him again, he  _really_  does, up until Billy pulls something out of his pocket, like, "I jacked Max's phone, so you can check out that dumbass playlist."

It is  _really_  annoying that Billy is _so_ smart. 

Steve is fucking  _desperate_  to know what's up with that playlist. 

 

 

 

 

That girl, _Jane_ , or whatever, is apparently  _really_  fucking dramatic, because it takes almost _three whole hours_ to _finally_ get to the last song, and. 

"How the fuck does a song called  _Boys_  end up on the  _gayest_  lesbian playlist to  _ever_  exist?" 

It's a  _really_  cute song, upbeat and sweet and dreamy, and  _definitely_  all about boys,  _yeah_ , except. 

"It sounds gay as hell to  _me_ , like. I don't know  _how_ , but, I mean,  _I_  believe Charli XCX is gay." 

"Gay as  _hell_ ," Billy agrees, the _second_ the song ends, and then he stands up, grabs his jacket, picks up Max's phone, like, "D &D." 

"Oh, yeah." Steve starts up his sleep playlist, shrugs, doesn't look at Billy. "Okay."

It's late, it's dark, and downstairs, the front door is opening and closing, and if it was his _mom_ , Steve would hear her heels on the wood floor, because she  _always_  wears heels, and she  _never_  takes them off by the door, which Dad fucking  _hates_ , so Steve's pretty sure that's the main reason she does it.

But it's _not_ Mom, because she's out of town, so.

Dad's home, and Steve's in his room, but Billy is here, too, and  _maybe_  he was about to leave, but. 

Billy reaches over to turn the lock on the door.

"You _don't_ gotta do that."

It's _almost_ like Billy's not going to push it, like he's not going to say anything about it, like he doesn't even  _care_ , until it's been a minute, maybe two, and Billy shrugs, "You shouldn't be _scared_ in your own fucking _room_." 

Steve can't tell if that's, like, _ironic_ , but if it _is_ , he probably gets to laugh, _right_? 

Steve _starts_ to laugh, but he shuts up when Billy turns off  _Ultralight Beam_  right during Chance's verse, even though that's basically the _best part_  of the  _entire song_ , so Steve's not sure why the _fuck_ he thinks he's _doing_ that.

And then he _knows_ , because the hallway light turns on, and Dad pauses in front of Steve's room, but then he moves on, and maybe Billy didn't really  _do_  anything, and it's not like Dad doesn't still  _know_  that Steve is _here_.

But the door is locked, and Billy is here, and Steve hasn't felt this safe in this house for  _years_ , so.

"Thanks."

Billy just wants to know, "Why's there so much religious shit on my playlist, _anyway_?" 

"It's  _my_  playlist," Steve reminds him. "And I don't know, I mean,  _why_  do you wear  _so much_  religious shit?" 

"Are you  _fucking_  with me, King Steve?"

Steve shrugs, smiles innocently, offers, "I mean,  _personally_ , I think you just like getting to wear crosses, all the time, like that's  _not_ weird—"

"I'm fucking  _Catholic_ ," Billy scowls. "Shut  _up_." 

He shuts up, thinks about Billy, thinks about how fucked-up his whole life is, thinks about how somebody probably needs to go handle carpool.

"You gonna take Max's phone back?" 

"She's literally  _with_  all her fucking friends, who the  _hell_  does she need to talk to?" When Steve doesn't answer him, Billy sighs, "I  _should_ , like.  _Goddamn_ , I  _guess_." 

"Can I come with you?" 

Billy looks at him for a long time, just _looks_ at him, then he shakes his head, leans back on Steve's bed, yawns, "Nah, no,  _fuck_  that bitch. She doesn't  _need_  her fucking  _phone_." 

 

 

 

 

Steve shows Billy the music video for the first song on Max's playlist,  _Curious_ , because it's got a good line in it about the Santa Monica Pier that he thinks Billy's gonna like. 

Billy hears it, likes it, decides, "Max is  _so_  fucking dumb."

"Um. Why?"

"She had this playlist for  _months_ , just pretending like,  _oh, my life's so hard, I don't know if she likes me_. Like, _Jesus_ , bitch, it's the  _literal_ gayest shit in the  _world_."

Okay, that's _kinda_ harsh, except.

 _Yeah_.

It  _is_  pretty gay.

Billy falls asleep pretty fast, after that, so. 

Steve texts Dustin to find out where Max is, but all Dustin has to say is,  _u dont ever wanna kno abt ME STEVE IT HOGUTH WE REWE FRIENDS_

And, Jesus  _Christ_ , like.

 _Yeah_ , Dustin can be dramatic, sometimes, but. 

 _Sometimes_  he's just being serious, right?  

Steve's about to take his phone out into the hallway, but then Billy suddenly wants to know, "Where the hell are you _going_?" 

"Um. You were _sleeping_ , so. I was gonna call Dustin?" 

" _No_ , come on. Do that shit tomorrow." 

"I _would_ , it just kinda seems like he _—_ "

"You been texting that kid, again?" 

"I mean, a _little_ _—_ "

"It's  _late_ ," Billy reminds him, softly. " _Tomorrow_ , okay? He's _fine_. He doesn't need a fucking _babysitter_." 

 

 

 

 

Steve waits longer, next time, gets out of bed around three-forty, sits on the top of the staircase when he texts Dustin,  _idk if ur still up but im sry? max & billy r jst having drama abt her phone so i wanted 2 get it back 2 her? its still u & me against the WORLD henderson_

Dustin hasn't read his message, after a minute, so. 

Steve checks his e-mails, and Madison invited him to a Christmas party, but it's probably just something she sent out to everybody, and he's got a _million_ Duolingo reminders, but he's never gonna _actually_ learn Spanish, so he ignores those, too, and he's got an e-mail from Mom asking him to link her whatever he wants for a Christmas present, this year, except he doesn't want _anything_ , so.  

Steve checks his texts, again, but. 

Dustin _still_ hasn't read his message. 

He's probably asleep. 

And it feels _stupid_ to do it now, when Billy's in the same house as him, when Billy's asleep in Steve's old room, when Billy's _right here_. 

It's stupid, but Steve _still_ opens his voicemails, lifts the phone to his ear, and. 

Billy sounds wasted, sounds like he's outside, when he goes, _I think you didn't believe me, baby, I just. Fuck, I really did run home, after basketball, and, just, like. God, I'd nut just fucking thinking about you? And, I mean, at school, I. I'd try talking to you, and you would just blow me off, like. Sometimes, it was, like. Like you fucking knew how much I wanted you, like you got off on it, like. I don't know. You drove me crazy._

Billy sounds wasted, sounds like he's upset, when he goes,  _my mom left me some money when she died, like. Life insurance, you know? So, like. That's what's up, with, like, the rent. I have the money, anyway, but I'm not using it, so. That's what's going on, but it's not, like, about. I don't know._

Billy sounds wasted, sounds like something  _wild_  just happened to him, when he goes, _I thought it was normal, I swear, and then one night, this bitch calls the fucking cops on me? Except, like, Dad likes to front like we're this happy fucking family, so I said I'd come back for Thanksgiving, and it was, like, the week before, so I already left? Anyway, yeah, like, literally the day after I get to Hawkins, some cop comes by, like, telling me the state of California has bigger problems than just me, so I have to do a year of probation, and that's it, and. I don't know? I, like, historically fucking hate talking to Susan, and she goddamn knows it, but, whatever, I just got back here, and. She tells me I should tell you all this shit, if I didn't tell you already, and I just start fucking laughing at her? Like, is this bitch crazy? Like, why the fuck would I tell you that? I don't want you leaving me, like. That's why I get so fucked up, about Nancy, 'cause I've been cheated on, too, you know that? I just. I just don't want anybody taking you away from me._

 

 

 

 

And there's _still_ something that's just _so good_ about Billy's voice, _even_ when he's a mess, so. 

Steve maybe falls asleep, on the stairs, listening to his voicemails, just for a _little_ bit, just until his phone vibrates, and Dustin's texts say,  _max is @ lucas's_

And,  _it is FUNNY that u think i SLEEP?? at NIGHT TIME??? like a HUMAN????_

And, _DAILY WORDS OF WISDOM STEVE HARRINGTON: BEWARE ROMULANS BEARING GIFTS_

Steve is _still_ feeling fucked up, and he doesn't know what the _fuck_ Romulans even _are_ , but he can't help grinning down at his phone, _anyway_. 

From behind him, in the hall, Dad asks, "Whose car is that, in the driveway?" 

Steve yawns, shrugs, tries, "The Chevy? It's Billy's." 

"Who?" 

Steve looks over his shoulder, and Dad's just fucking  _standing_  there, still.

It's freaking him out.

What's he fucking _doing_?

"My boyfriend, Billy?"

"Your _what_?" 

"We live together. He's. Who I moved in with?" 

Dad nods slowly. "Is he here to take you home?" 

"I. I don't know, yet." 

"It's _not_ a very difficult question, _is_ it?" 

" _No_ , I. I just. _Yeah_ , that's why, I _guess_ , but. I don't know if I'm gonna _go_." 

"Why not?"

And Steve can't say,  _because he hit me, and he's gonna do it again, and he only wants to do fucked up shit in bed that he knows I don't like, but he just doesn't care, and he gets really mean, and I'm tired, and I just want to die, all the fucking time_ , like. 

He  _can't_  say that, because. 

Dad's not going to fucking  _care_. 

"I just  _don't know_ , okay?!" 

Dad nods again. "Does he have a job?" 

"Yeah."

"Do you think he's good-looking?" 

"I. Yeah?" 

"Then, what _exactly_ do you think is the problem, here?" 

Steve can't say,  _there's no problem, everything's fine, I'll go home_ , because he doesn't  _want_ to go back to the apartment, and it doesn't  _matter_  what Dad thinks, it's  _Steve's_  life, he doesn't _have_ to be with Billy if he doesn't fucking  _want_  to be. 

He tries, feeling dumb and lost and fucking  _desperate_ , "You don't, um. You don't care that he's a guy?" 

Dad rolls his eyes, steps around Steve to head downstairs, asks, "Why would I  _care_? It could be  _anybody_ , Steven. Do you think I  _want_  to take care of you for the rest of your life?"

 

 

 

 

Just like always, Dad leaves early in the morning.

Billy's asleep, tucked up under Steve's arm, looking shockingly small and young and vulnerable, again.

Now that Dad's gone, Steve will _probably_ be able to sleep some more, _even though_ he's in his old room, except.

Billy is going to wake up soon, and Billy always gives Steve shit for not being able to _do_ anything, and. 

Yeah, that's _true_ , Steve _can't_ fucking do things, but he just _doesn't_  want Billy talking to him like that, today.

But Steve hasn't gone grocery shopping since he started staying here, and Billy's gonna wake up hungry, because Billy is, like,  _always_  fucking hungry, so.

Steve gets out of bed, slips into his sneakers, makes sure to grab Max's phone before he heads downstairs.

 

 

 

 

Steve goes to the grocery store, buys protein shakes, buys two kinds of Pop-Tarts, buys Funyuns. 

_Teenage Dream_ is playing on the sound system. 

Billy's  _not even here_. 

Life is  _wild_.  

 

 

 

 

Mrs Sinclair opens her front door, rolls her eyes when Steve holds up Max's phone, invites Steve to come in for pancakes. 

"Oh, uh. No, thanks, I mean, _thank you_ , really, I just gotta get going, so _—_ "

"Are you still seeing that boy?"  _That boy_ , like she just  _doesn't_  know his name, is kinda funny, until Steve shrugs, and Mrs Sinclair narrows her eyes. "And what does  _that_  mean?"  

Steve doesn't  _know_ , but Max comes downstairs, all shamelessly messy hair and something that looks like it might be one of Lucas' shirts, except she's wearing it like it's just a  _super_  short dress, and,  _Jesus_ , she stops  _dead_  when she sees Steve at the door, like, " _Billy_ is picking me up."

Billy's probably  _not_  picking her up, though.

He's _probably_ still passed out on Steve's bed, so. 

Steve needs to  _tell_  her that Billy's not picking her up, so she can figure out another way home, if she just  _doesn't like_  Steve, anymore, because that's sure as shit what it  _seems_  like, so. 

_Yeah_. 

"I'm not  _here_  to pick you up. I'm just. You don't have a  _phone_ , so.  _Here_ ," he says, except Max doesn't come to take the phone from him, so.

Steve raises his eyebrows, sets the phone down on this little table by the door, tries to work out what the  _fuck_  he did that was so bad that Max fucking  _hates_  him, now, because _he_ thought they were okay, like.

Not  _great_ , maybe, but.

_Okay_ , right? 

Except, Billy said,  _Max Mayfield, who, by the way, does not even fucking like you_ , and Steve thought it was a _lie_ , except. 

Except it _wasn't_ , right? 

That was _true_. 

Of _course_ it was true.

Mrs Sinclair asks, "Why  _couldn't_  he be here to pick you up?" 

Max starts, "Um _—_ " 

Steve sighs, "I'm  _not_  here to pick her _—_ "

"But why  _couldn't_  you be?" 

Max sighs, " _No_ , it's  _just—_ "

Steve starts, "I  _could—_ "

And Mrs Sinclair asks, "Did you two kids have a _fight_?" 

And Steve sighs, "I'm  _twenty years old—_ "

And Max sighs, " _No—_ "

"Well, then, what's wrong?" 

And Steve's always had this idea, in his head, about how girls cry  _a lot_ , but. 

Max is a lot like Nancy, because she doesn't really seem like she  _ever_  cries.

But Max  _really_  seems like she's about to cry when she rushes out, "I  _made_  Steve go out with Billy, and Billy's  _really_  horrible to him, and I feel  _so bad_ , I don't know how to do  _anything_  about it, and, like, Billy just  _decked_  him on Thanksgiving in front of  _everybody_ , Mrs Sinclair,  _everybody saw_ , but we're just supposed, to, like, pretend it didn't  _happen_ , but it  _did_ , and it's  _all my fault_ , but he just wouldn't leave me  _alone_ , and I couldn't  _take_  it, and I was, like,  _so_  fucking stupid, this  _entire_  time, I was like,  _okay, well, it's not that bad, now, it's different now_ , but then he had to come stay, after jail, after Thanksgiving, and he was  _so mean the whole time_ , and my mom had to go get some of Billy's stuff from their place, 'cause Mrs Sinclair, there was a  _restraining order_  and he  _couldn't go there_ , and, _and_ , and Mom comes back, and Billy  _hates_  my mom, but as  _soon_  as she walks in, he's like,  _how did Steve look, what did he say, does he miss me_ , and, like, when I was _little_ , and then, like, then when we _moved_ here, Billy would take me to school and pick me up, and every time, he would be all like,  _how was first period, how was second period, who did you talk to, what happened all day, what did you eat at lunch, what grade did you get on your English test, tell me everything about everything 'cause I gotta know everything about your whole life_ , and he hated _all_ my friends, and he broke my _skateboard_ , and he said gross _awful_ shit about Lucas, and Mrs Sinclair, I just  _didn't_  think it was  _like_  that, but it  _is_ , but I thought, like,  _like_ , he was  _different_  now, 'cause  _why_  would Steve _be_ with him if he was still the  _same_ , but he  _is_  the same, and I feel so fucking  _bad_ , but I can't  _do_  anything _—_ " 

Mrs Sinclair looks like this is the craziest thing that's ever fucking happened to her, when she takes Max into the living room, and they sit down, and. 

It's obviously not really Steve's  _business_ , so.

He leaves.

 

 

 

 

It's _not_ Steve's business, but he _can't_ get back with Billy, now, like.

No matter _what_ , he can't do it, _right_?

Because, even after Billy got arrested, and everything, like.

Steve was sorta thinking that Billy was _just_ an asshole, except.

_Okay_ , he's  _abusive_ , right? 

Like, that's the _only_ word that really  _fits_ , as far as Steve knows, but.

_Admittedly_ , he just doesn't know a  _lot_  of words, so, yeah, okay, _maybe_ there's a better word for what Billy is. 

It's just that Steve's pretty fucking sure that there  _isn't_ , so. 

_Whatever_. 

Steve _has_ to go back to the apartment, and he _knows_ it, but.

They can share an apartment without being together. 

They did that _before_ , and it was fine, right? 

It was _fine_.  

 

 

 

   

Billy's _not_ Steve's boyfriend, not _anymore_ , even if he doesn't know it yet, except.

Steve climbs into bed with him, _anyway_ , because he looks _good_ , like, _way_ too good to be _alone_ , and Billy's mostly asleep, but he blinks his eyes open a little bit, rasps, "What's going on?" 

Steve pushes an Odwalla protein shake against Billy's face, and it's  _still_  kinda cold from being in the refrigerated section at the store, so it makes sense that Billy hisses, " _Jesus_ , what the  _hell_ ," as he yanks the bottle out of Steve's grip, and it takes him a few more seconds, but then Billy glances at the label, opens his eyes up all the way, presses up on his elbows to ask, "My baby got me _breakfast_?" 

Steve rolls his eyes. "I  _guess_ , yeah, if you  _gotta_  say it like that, then, like.  _Yeah_." 

Billy cracks open the bottle, drinks just about _half_ of his dumb strawberry shake in one swallow, falls back down into bed. "Alright, give me a kiss." 

"Man, why you  _always_  gotta be like that?" 

"Be like  _what_?"

"Like,  _gimme a kiss_ , like. Like, why don't  _you_ just kiss  _me_?" 

" _Bitch_ , I am  _always_ kissing on you." 

That's _actually_ pretty true, so. 

Steve leans in, kisses Billy a few times, just until he starts looking all uncharacteristically dumb and sweet and tired, again, but the second Steve _stops_ , Billy yawns, "Where you think you're _going_ , King Steve?" 

"Nowhere?" 

" _Nowhere_ ," Billy mocks, wraps his arms around Steve real tight, starts closing his eyes again. "You stoned, or what?" 

"No."

"Oh,  _no_? Just woke up wanting to be nice to me?" 

"I _always_ wanna be nice to you," and that's  _bullshit_ , there's  _lots_  of times when Steve definitely fucking  _doesn't_  want that, but.

Only because Billy's mean to him,  _first_ , right? 

"You're so  _good_ , baby." And Steve doesn't know _how_ , but he knows it's coming, he fucking  _knows_ , but he doesn't have enough time to _do_ anything, or _say_ anything, or just get up and fucking  _leave_ , before Billy slurs out, "Always  _so_  good for Daddy." 

And, _fuck_ , it's  _gross_ , it's  _so gross_ , it  _really_  is, but. 

Steve feels real _strange_ today, like.

Like, he _didn't_ want to get back with Billy, except he kinda feels like he just _did_ get back with him, and. 

He doesn't know what he's _doing_ , so.

It's _nice_? 

Like. 

No one _ever_ tells him he's doing good, and Steve _knows_ it's just because he's _not_ good, _ever_ , but. 

It's still  _so_ fucking nice to hear it, anyway.

He asks, " _Really_?"

Billy nods, blinks, mumbles, "You feeling okay?" 

"Sure. Yes. _Yeah_." 

Billy smiles, rolls over, passes _right_ back out, and. 

And Steve can't fucking  _believe_  he was so irresponsible with his drugs last month, because he  _needs_  to get fucked up, or he is gonna  _scream_. 

 

 

 

 

It only takes six and a half minutes to find the Klonopin that Mom hides in the walk-in closet, because she's a nervous flier, and  _apparently_ , sometimes booze just _isn't_ enough. 

In contrast, it takes almost _two fucking hours_ to find season three of  _Entourage_  on DVD, in Dad's study, but it's _worth_ it for the delighted little grin that breaks open on Billy's face when he wakes up for real, and notices it, and immediately informs Steve, "Season three's the  _best one_."

Steve has _no_ idea if that's true, but he also just doesn't fucking _care_ , so. "Wanna just take it home, though? My computer doesn't have a DVD thing, so."

Kinda absently, like he just _doesn't_ really care, Billy wonders, "Are you coming _with_ me?" 

Steve's not  _sure_ , so.

He shrugs as he sits down with Billy, who smiles, pulls lightly at Steve's hair, goes, " _Hey_ , I _want_ you to come home, okay?"

"Okay." 

"I'm not gonna, like.  _Hurt_ you." 

"I know." 

Billy looks like he's waiting for something else, something  _better_ , but he looks like that a  _lot_ , and Steve doesn't  _care_ , anymore.

It's not  _his_  fault if Billy doesn't _get_ that Steve just  _can't_  give him certain things, like.

Steve's not  _ever_  gonna be able to be good enough for Billy. 

He's never been good enough for  _anybody_.

"What are you thinking about, King Steve?" 

"What?" 

"You're not  _talking_  to me. What's up?" 

Steve has no  _idea_  what's up.  

He shrugs, so Billy sighs, " _Look_ , I  _can't_  take _—_ "

"Take _care_ of me if I don't _talk_ to you. I fucking  _get_  it." 

For a second, Billy looks annoyed, and then he sighs again, like, "You find a new job, yet?"

Steve can't say, _no, I'm mostly just focusing on trying not to die_ , because.

Billy's not gonna _care_ about that. 

He probably doesn't even really care if Steve's got a job, like. 

He's _probably_ just trying to make him feel bad, because he _knows_ Steve doesn't have one, yet, and. 

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah," Steve lies.

"Are you lying to me?"

And it's so _weird_ that he doesn't just say it the way they both fucking _know_ he wants to say it, like.

Steve doesn't need to hear it, he doesn't fucking _want_ to hear it, but he _knows_ Billy probably just meant something like, _are you lying to Daddy?_  

If that's what Billy _wants to say_ , and it's not like Billy _cares_ that Steve _doesn't_ want to hear it, why won't he just _say_ it?

Why does Billy _always_ have to fuck with Steve's head? 

Was that, like, the _point_ , this _whole time_? 

Billy wants Steve to _ask_  him for it?

"Yeah." Billy _already_ looks mad, again, so. Steve adds, quickly, "Sorry. I'll take a nap, okay?"

 

 

 

 

" _Hey_ ," Steve groans, when he wakes up falling down on top of the hood of his car, because Billy is the fucking  _worst_. "What the  _fuck_?!"

"Time to go home, Harrington. You were _screaming_ , and I don't need anybody calling the cops on me, when I am, like,  _not_ _even_   _touching_ _you_."

Steve rolls his eyes. " _Man_ , I got  _nightmares_. Screaming just  _happens_ , sometimes." 

"I _know_  that," Billy's like, tossing his leather jacket down on top of Steve as he rummages through his satchel for his keys. "But it's _extremely_ annoying." 

"I'll work on being  _less_  annoying." 

" _Thanks_." 

Billy looks like he's about to leave, walk around to the other side of the driveway where he parked the Camaro, and Steve doesn't really want him to go so _soon_ , so.

"Gimme a kiss?" And it's _mean_ , it's _manipulative_ , it's _horrible_ , because Steve fucking  _knows_  Billy likes kissing, Billy fucking  _loves_  kissing, Billy loves being  _kissed_ , so he _goes_ for it, and so _that's_ when Steve winds his fingers through Billy's hair to keep him close, says, because it's true, because he feels good, because he feels really weirdly fucking  _intensely_  happy, "That was  _amazing_ , babe.  _Thank_  you." 

" _God_ ," and maybe it's just too cold out here for Steve to really know for _sure_ , but it _kinda_ looks like Billy's blushing, a little, when he mutters, "You're welcome,  _whatever_." 

Steve slips off the hood of the BMW, holds out a hand, waits for Billy to hand him _his_ keys, too, like, "You carry me, again?" 

"Yeah." 

"What,  _all_  the way out here?" 

" _Yes_ , asshole."

"Down the _stairs_?"

" _Harrington_ , I fucking  _said—_ "

"That's kinda sexy. Like, I'm  _never_  gonna tell you it again, but it's  _kinda_  sexy." 

" _Thanks_."

"Don't drop me again, though, okay?" 

"How the fuck  _else_  was I supposed to put you  _down_ ; Jesus, are you  _kidding_?" 

"So just  _don't_  fucking carry me, but. Don't  _drop_  me, okay, like. You gotta be  _gentle_  with me, sometimes." 

Billy rolls his eyes. " _Sure_ , Harrington."

" _No_ ," Steve says, and it's the summertime, again, and he's out in the hallway, in their apartment, and Billy's all over him, in the dark, telling Steve to do what he wants,  _say_  what he wants, and. "I'm  _serious_."

Billy pauses for a half a minute, one minute, maybe even _more_ , until he finally hands over Steve's keys, agrees, "Okay. _Gentle_?"

"Yeah."

"That's what you _need_?" 

"Yeah. Please." 

"Okay."Steve starts his car, and his sleep playlist picks up from _Ultralight Beam_ , so Chance The Rapper goes  _just throw this at the end if I'm too late for the intro_ , when Billy leans in, kisses Steve's cheek, leans back to close the door for him when he repeats, " _Okay_."

 

 

 

 

Steve hasn't been back to the apartment in, like, a  _week_ , but it feels like it's been  _way_  longer than that.

It feels like he's somewhere that's not his, where he's not supposed to be, and Billy disappears into the bathroom, and. 

Steve stands in the hall, looks at his door, and it's  _normal_ , there's no huge gaping hole where the doorknob should be, it's  _fine_ , it's like it didn't  _happen_. 

It  _did_  fucking happen, but. 

It's like Billy wants to pretend it didn't happen, like. 

Like Steve's just being  _crazy_ , because it  _didn't_  happen. 

And he thought _maybe_ he was getting back with Billy, except he _doesn't_ want to, again, now, because he can't do that _all over again_ , he _can't_  come home to Billy fucking with his stuff, like it's _not_ a big deal, like Steve's just being _dramatic_ , like nothing even  _happened_ , and. 

He's _too_ uncomfortable, in the hallway, so he goes into the kitchen, where all of their food is getting _pretty_ gross, because they haven't been home to throw it away, and he hears the annoying beeping noise that the heater always makes when it turns on, so he closes the fridge, turns to watch Billy walk into the kitchen, and Steve's  _not_  back with Billy, he's not  _getting_   _back_ with Billy, he's  _not_ , but. 

He _still_ feels like his heart's about to stop beating. 

" _Fuck_ , babe, Jesus _Christ_!"

Billy stops, blinks, demands, " _What_?" 

"What do you mean, _what_?! Billy, what the hell is  _that_?!"

It's December.

It's _cold_.

The collars of Billy's jackets, his shirts, his fucking _scarves_ , they must have been covering it up this whole time, but there's this ring of fading bruises low around Billy's neck, like maybe somebody tried to fucking  _strangle_ him, recently, and.

Steve brushes a fingertip over one of the bruises, just  _one_ , but it gets Billy scrambling back, anyway, going, "It's  _nothing_ , it's  _fine_ ," and then Billy's  _gone_ , his bedroom door closes,  _that_  fucking fast.

And,  _fuck_ , like.

_Yeah_ , Steve didn't exactly  _force_ Billy to hit him on Thanksgiving, but he  _did_  kinda bully him into it,  _didn't_  he?

If that hadn't happened, Billy wouldn't have had to go back to his dad's house, so. 

It's _Steve's_ fault.

And Steve's been thinking, like, _yeah_ , he's not that great to Billy, except it's not _just_ that, because Steve's actually  _worse_  than Billy is, right? 

He's a  _lot_  worse, and. 

Billy still likes him, _anyway_. 

 

 

 

 

"Thank you." 

Billy blinks at Steve, and he's always so  _big_ , and  _strong_ , and  _scary_ , except right now, his hair is _all over_ his face, and his eyes are only half-open, and he's just this sorta golden sleepy warm little thing that's staring up at Steve like he doesn't  _understand_  him. 

"You dreaming, or what?" And Steve doesn't really know what Billy  _means_ , so he doesn't say anything back, and Billy smiles, small and gentle and  _sad_ , when he adds, like he doesn't want to, but he just  _has_  to point it out, like he's telling Steve a secret, like he's trying not to break Steve's fucking  _heart_ , "Baby, I'm not. I didn't  _do_  anything for you." 

But that's not  _true_ , so.

_Okay_.

Billy just doesn't  _get_  it, but that's okay. 

This whole thing? 

Billy  _never_  needed to get anything,  _Steve_  did, and he gets it  _now_ , he  _really_  does, so. 

It's  _fine_.

Steve gets what he was doing wrong, now, so. 

He can be  _better_ , and he can make everything okay, again.

"Thanks for taking care of me."

Suddenly, Billy looks  _exhausted_ , and Steve feels  _bad_ , because it's early, and he  _shouldn't_  have woken him up, and he  _knows_  it, but.

Billy sits up in bed, pushes back against the headboard, doesn't make eye contact with Steve, and that's Steve's fault, _too_ , but this is probably the wrong time to be like,  _hey, I'll do my hair the way you like it, and I'll go to the gym like you want, and I'll do whatever you want if you'll look at me like you used to_.

It's the wrong time.

Billy's  _tired_.

"Don't fucking  _thank_  me, alright? I  _like_  taking care of you. I  _love_  you."

"Yeah," Steve nods, because.  _Yeah_ , that's. That's  _really_  just what he meant, anyway. "I  _meant_  that, I.  _Thanks_. I know I was, like. I didn't  _get it_ , when you said it, but I know I'm dumb, a lot, and I don't.  _Understand_  stuff, I  _know_ , but. I  _know_  nobody loved me, before, but  _you_  do, and, I mean, I don't know if you know how that  _feels_ , but, honestly, I didn't think anybody was  _ever_  gonna love me, but you  _really_  do, and. And it just makes me feel really good?  _You_  make me feel real good, and. I don't  _deserve_  it, but, like, fuck  _that_ , right? I want it,  _anyway_ , I mean. I want  _you_ , anyway."

Billy swallows, and it's this hard _loud_ kinda sound, Steve can  _hear_  it, and, _okay_ , Steve's had a few shots of vodka, and it's _mostly_ dark in Billy's bedroom, so _maybe_ Steve's just reading Billy the wrong way, but he looks like he's nervous, or upset, or _scared_ , maybe? 

_Shit_.

Is Steve  _scaring_ Billy? 

That's  _crazy_ , right?

Like, it's basically  _impossible_ , isn't it?

_Yeah_ , Steve  _knows_  Billy gets scared, sometimes. 

He's scared of cops, and he's scared of his dad, and he's scared of getting sick.

He's not scared of  _Steve_ , though, _is_ he? 

Steve  _wouldn't_  hurt Billy. 

Not on _purpose_ , anyway, he wouldn't  _mean_  to, like. 

He  _knows_  he fucked up on Thanksgiving.

Steve  _really_  fucked up.

He got drunk, and he pushed Billy around, and he said some  _really_  awful shit to him, and it wasn't  _fair_ , and. 

He  _knows_  that Billy is stronger than he is, so Billy's  _gotta_  know it, too, but Steve has met Billy's dad a couple times, and the guy is _only_ about Steve's height, and he's not in his prime, or anything, like. He doesn't seem like he lifts weights or  _whatever_  the hell Billy does, every time he goes to the gym, so. 

Billy probably doesn't  _have_  to be scared of _him_ , but he definitely  _is_ , and. 

Maybe he's scared of  _Steve_ , too, so. 

" _Hey_ , I'm. I'm sorry. Babe? I'm  _real sorry_ , okay?" 

Billy closes his eyes, tips his head back against the headboard, takes in a long shaky breath. 

_Great_.

Billy is fucking  _scared_. 

Steve is somebody who's  _scaring his boyfriend_ in the  _middle of the night_ , like a fucking  _psycho_ , so.

That's fucking  _great_. 

" _Billy_ , I'm  _sorry_ , I didn't. I didn't mean to  _hurt—_ " 

" _Shut up_ ," Billy snaps, finally. "You're drunk. Get the  _fuck_  out of my room."

 

 

 

 

There's a new shiny _perfect_ lock on Steve's door, like Billy maybe had to go to Lowe's, or something, which probably sucked for him. 

Billy _hates_ hardware stores _and_ home improvement stores _and_ furniture stores, and that's _kinda_ all three. 

It was _nice_ of Billy to fix the door, _God_ , it was _so_ fucking nice of him, except Steve _can't_ go in there, because what if it's _not_ his room, anymore? 

Maybe it's more like somewhere that just belongs to _Billy_ , now, and. 

Steve can take a _lot_ , and he _knows_ it, he just. 

He just doesn't think he can take  _that_. 

 

 

 

 

Steve wakes up because Billy is standing over him, asking, "Why the hell are you in the  _hallway_?" 

"I don't know? Sorry." 

" _Okay_ ," Billy sighs. For a second, Steve _almost_ thinks Billy's about to sit down on the floor with him, but. He  _doesn't_  do that. "Listen to me. Are you listening?" 

"Yeah." 

"Okay. Okay,  _look_ , you can't just  _be_  like this, all the time, alright? I need you to try to _—_ "

"I'm  _trying_." 

Billy growls, "You  _don't_  even know what the  _fuck_  I'm talking about." 

Yeah.

That's _true_ , so.

"Okay?" 

" _Okay_. Look, _Harrington_ , when I start talking shit, you don't. You  _can't_  tell me you're  _sorry_ , like. Like,  _yeah_ , maybe that's what I  _want_ , but it's not what you need to  _do—_ "

"Wait,  _what_?" 

"I  _said—_ "

" _No_ , I  _heard_  you," and Steve did, he  _did_ , but that's. That's not  _fair_. "Is this a  _joke_?"

" _Why_ would I joke about that?"

He probably wouldn't.

Because, even with the way Billy can be, sometimes, like. 

This is just  _too_  fucked up. 

"But. Then.  _Why_  would you wanna do that?" 

"Do _what_?" 

"This," and Steve means, _why would you spend forever teaching me to do something if it's not what you really wanted me to do, I'm not smart, I can't relearn it, don't you know that about me by now, I can't do anything, I can't do this, I can't take this_ , but all he can say is, "You. Okay.  _Don't_  apologize to you?" 

"Yeah. _Yeah_ , don't do that, and. _Stop_  fucking acting like you always think I'm going to _hit_ you." 

That makes sense, right?

That's.

_Fair_ , or something?

_Steve_  is the one who fucks up, not _Billy_.

Billy shouldn't have to feel like he's doing something wrong, when he's _not_ , so.

"Okay. Okay, what else? Is that it?" 

"I think so." 

Steve doesn't know what to _say_ , so.

He forces a smile onto his face, watches Billy head into the bathroom, listens to the shower starting up. 

It's _fine_. 

Steve goes into his room, and  _it's_  fine, too. 

It doesn't really matter. 

_Nothing_ matters.  

 

 

 

 

Hayley Kiyoko is going,  _I don't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna think about it, I'm just feeling low_ , when Billy gets out of the shower, knocks on Steve's door, calls out, "Harrington?" 

"I'm busy!"

Steve's  _not_  busy, but he's  _not_  opening the door, because he's  _not_  getting up. 

He's too tired.

Billy sighs, " _Harrington_ ," and then, "Steve," and then, like he thinks it's going to fucking  _mean something_  to Steve, " _Sweetheart_ ," and. 

_Jesus_. 

Why is Billy  _like_  that? 

Isn't he  _tired_?

_Steve_  is just  _so_  fucking  _tired_. 

 

 

 

 

Steve doesn't know what time it is when he gets out of bed, but Hayley's still on repeat, going,  _you will never understand, even when you hold my hand, I just feel alone_ , and he steps into the hallway without turning it off, and Billy's voice hits him out of nowhere, calm and quiet and  _startling_ , in the dark, where he could be  _anywhere_ , he could be  _everywhere_ , but Steve can't fucking  _see_  him, when Billy goes, "That song is  _real_  annoying." 

"Hayley Kiyoko could  _murder_  me." 

Billy laughs as he walks up close, steps out from the dark end of the hall, and a smile sticks around on his face, even when he's done laughing, like. 

Like that's just  _really_  funny, or something, and he pulls his phone out, taps around to his thread of texts with Max, and there's one from fifty minutes ago, where Max just says,  _shut UP thts hayley k?? she cld KILL me!!!!_

The text right before that is from a couple days ago, but that doesn't mean anything. 

Billy likes leaving voicemails; Max likes sending texts.

He called; she texted back.

They do that.

It's _cute_.

It's a dumb cute little family thing.

Steve doesn't really _have_ any family things. 

Steve doesn't really have a _family_.

He doesn't really have _anything_. 

He says, "Okay." 

"You're the same person," Billy explains, because, _God_ , he _really_ thinks Steve is _that_ fucking dumb, doesn't he? "That's the joke." 

"Okay. You're kinda in my way." 

Billy looks annoyed, but he moves to the side, so Steve goes into the bathroom, thinks about brushing his teeth, decides it's a _lot_ of work, and there's not _really_ a point. 

He swallows down the last of the meds he had in the medicine cabinet, and then he gets in the shower, and maybe that's  _sorta_  unsafe, but this stuff takes, like, twenty minutes,  _minimum_ , to kick in, usually, so. 

He'll  _probably_  be okay.  

 

 

 

 

Billy is in the living room, but Steve doesn't really _care_ about what he's doing enough to stop and figure it out. 

He goes into the kitchen, finishes the rest of the vanilla Smirnoff that was in the freezer, eats two Pop-Tarts, goes to crash down on the armchair. 

Billy glances at him, rolls his eyes, gets back to watching  _Love and Hip Hop: New York_  like he  _actually_  knows what's happening on it, because he probably _does_ , like always, and he looks  _good_ , like always, and he's not wearing a shirt, like fucking  _always_ , and those bruises are  _still_  there, and Steve  _still_  feels bad, and.

He gets up, sits next to Billy, grabs his face with both hands to pull him in for a kiss before Billy feels like he has to ask for it.

He shouldn't have to  _ask_.

Billy blinks, pulls back a little bit, goes, "Hi." 

"Hi, Daddy," and Steve doesn't really know what he was  _expecting_ , but.

Okay,  _no_ , he  _absolutely_  knew what he was expecting, but it's  _not_  what's happening, because Billy is tensing up, is making this face like he's  _disgusted_ , then  _terrified_ , then  _furious_ , and then all three, at the  _same fucking time_ , but that isn't fucking _fair_ , because Billy didn't  _say_  that he didn't want that anymore, but Steve doesn't know what to  _do_ , if Billy just  _doesn't_  want it, because Steve thought he was  _finally_  starting to _understand_ it, like.

Like, maybe Billy wants to feel like he's real important, like.

Like Steve's never gonna leave him, because Billy _worries_ about that, _right_?

But if he's  _that_  fucking important, Steve  _won't_  ever leave, because he  _can't_ , because they're stuck together for  _forever_ , so Steve's been thinking maybe  _that's_  what it's about, but apparently fucking  _not_ , because Billy doesn't fucking _want_ it, now, so.

"I'm  _sorry_. I wasn't trying to. I'm not. I'm  _not_  making fun of you, or. I just thought you'd  _like_  that, I'm. I'm sorry.  _Hey_ ," and he kisses Billy again, because Billy's not _saying_ anything, and Steve doesn't know what to fucking  _do_ , and it's not like Billy's  _not_  kissing him back, he's just not putting a lot _into_ it, like he's not all  _there_ , and. "I wanna, like. Do all the stuff you want, like, in bed, and  _whatever_ , like.  _Babe_ , I just wanna make you  _happy_ , and I want. I just want to be what you _want_ , okay? I wanna be good. Like.  _Like_ , I wanna be good enough for you," and he tries to kiss Billy again, but he  _can't_ , because. 

That's when Billy closes his eyes and stops kissing back, like that's _enough_ , like that's  _it_ , like he just can't  _take_  anymore of Steve being pathetic and annoying and dumb.

Steve _gets_ it.

_He_ can't take much more of it, _either_. 

He pulls back, stands up, thinks it's  _great_ that he just got trashed, because if he  _hadn't_  done that, he would be feeling  _super_  suicidal, right now, instead of just  _sorta_  suicidal, so. 

"I'm  _sorry_ , I didn't mean to _upset_ you, at _all_ , and I'm  _real fucking sorry_ , um.  _Jesus_. Sorry." 

 

 

 

 

Steve is getting a _weird_ amount of notifications on his phone, texts and calls and voicemails, but he doesn't fucking _care_.

_Everyone_ who knows Steve knows that he keeps weird hours, so.

He can just pretend he was asleep, right? 

He listens to J Cole's 2014 Forest Hills Drive  _Intro_  on repeat for about a half hour, thinks about how fucking _wild_ it is to start out a song, to start out a entire  _album_ , just casually like,  _do you want to be happy?_

He listens to  _Intro_ , thinks about staying out late to kick back with Tommy, back when this album was the shit.

He listens to  _Intro_ , thinks about maybe calling Tommy up, right now. 

He's still out of town, at school, but. 

Steve feels _really_ fucked up, and he doesn't know what to do, and maybe Tommy could set him straight?

Tommy used to be really good at that.

His phone vibrates, again, and the screen says it's his mom calling, but Steve doesn't know _why_ she's doing that.

She's away for work, somewhere, so maybe she just forgot about the time difference, but if she _did_ , she's probably drunk, anyway, so. 

Steve doesn't _have_ to talk to her, and that's _great_ , because he _can't_ talk to her.

He can't talk to _anyone_. 

_Intro_ plays, and _Intro_ plays, and _Intro_ plays.

_Do you wanna be happy, do you wanna be happy, do you wanna be free?_

The phone vibrates, and Billy is _just_ a bedroom away, but he's calling Steve, anyway.

It takes another roll through of _Intro_ , but then there's another voicemail, and it's _dumb_ to listen to it right away, but Steve does, listens as Billy says,  _so, my probation's almost up. And, this isn't. It's not about you, I just. Fucking hate it, here, and. I'm going home, so, like. I found a guy to sublet my room. Met him, today; he's a grad student. Quiet? I don't know. He's real into being sober, but he says he's 420 friendly, that's an actual direct quote, so. You'll be okay. I'll pay rent through January, anyway, and. And you'll be okay._

Is he _kidding_?

_You'll be okay?_

Steve _won't_ be okay. 

How the _fuck_ is Steve supposed to be okay without _Billy_? 

Billy is the _only_ person who _ever_ takes care of him, and, okay, yeah, _fine_ , Steve _should_ be able to take care of himself, and he _knows_ it, but that doesn't change the fact that he just  _can't_ , so. 

 

 

 

 

So, he's coming back from the bathroom at, like, three-thirty, and he's pretty sure Billy was asleep a few minutes ago, but his light is on, now, and his door is open, and he's sitting up in bed, fucking around on his laptop, and. 

Steve leans against the doorframe for a while before Billy glances up at him, pats at the side of his bed, mutters, "Come here." 

And,  _Jesus_ , it's  _pathetic_  to just do everything Billy tells him to do, even when he has  _no fucking reason to_ , because Billy's _leaving_ , because Billy doesn't _like_ him, because _nobody_ likes him, but Steve still pushes away from the door, climbs into Billy's bed, waits for something to happen. 

Nothing _does_ happen, not until Steve thinks he's asleep, anyway, so.

Maybe he _is_ asleep. 

Maybe he's just dreaming, but. 

It _feels_ like he's got Billy reaching over, pulling Steve up against him, pressing a kiss into his hair.

And Steve's not sure if he _means_ it, but he's pretty sure it doesn't fucking _matter_ , so he slurs, "Love you." 

Most people would say, _I love you, too_ , or something, but Billy's tense and he's quiet and he sounds so fucking _tired_ when he's like, "Fine. That's _fine_. Look, I. I  _can't_  have you doing that shit, okay?" 

"What shit?" 

"That, like. Like,  _you're so good to me, Billy, thank you so much, let me make you happy_ , that kind of shit, you.  _Jesus_ , you can't  _do_  that to me." 

_You can't do that to me?_

Like.

Like,  _what_? 

Like it  _hurts_ , or something? 

Is he for  _real_? 

"Okay?" 

And Steve's expecting _more_ than that, he doesn't know _why_ , but he _is_ , only Billy doesn't _give_ him anything else, just exhales out another long scared-sounding breath, wonders, "You want music?" 

"Only if you want." 

"Oh, _yeah_ , King Steve? If  _I_  want?" 

Steve's about to fall asleep either way, so.

This is another one of those things that doesn't matter, but he guesses it's nice of Billy to _pretend_ like it does, so.

"Play me some, like. Some  _good_  shit, not, like. The top-secret metal you listen to." 

"Shut _up_ ; it's not  _secret_."

"Nah, the  _other_  shit's the secret." 

" _Yeah_." That almost-annoyingly cute Ella Mai song starts playing, from somewhere near the chorus, like maybe Billy was listening to it earlier, all _I'll never get over you until I find something new that gets me high like you_ , and Billy sets his laptop down, finishes, "It  _is_." 

"I won't  _ever_  tell  _anybody_." 

" _Thanks_." 

"You're welcome." Steve pushes himself up to really _look_ at Billy, when he's like, "Look me in the  _face_ , though, and  _admit_  you love all that, like. Old-school R&B slow jams kinda shit." 

Billy sighs, "I _love_ it." 

Steve grins.

Billy rolls his eyes, catches Steve's lower lip between two of his fingertips, tugs lightly when he's like, "Come here for a second."

"I'm  _right here_."

"Come  _closer_ , Jesus fucking  _Christ—_ "

" _Okay_ ," Steve laughs, settles down on top of Billy, who looks so fucking _good_ , even though Steve fucking _knows_ he's in the oldest pair of sweats he owns, and, like, this fraying sleeveless shirt he got at H &M for _literally_ three bucks, one time, like. He looks  _so_  fucking good. He  _still_  looks like he needs a haircut, but it  _works_  for him, he looks  _good_ , he's fucking  _beautiful_ , and. And Billy is hard, he's rocking up against Steve's ass, he's settling his hands down on Steve's hips, so. They're gonna fuck.  _Jesus_. Maybe he's not with Billy anymore, maybe he doesn't really _matter_ to Billy anymore, but. This is okay, too. This is _good_. This is more than Steve _deserves_ , so it's _crazy_ that he's getting it, like. Steve can't  _believe_  he gets to fuck somebody who looks like Billy does. "Right here?"

"Yeah." 

"You want me  _here_?" 

"That's _exactly_ right. You're _so_ fucking  _smart_ , did you _know_ that?" That feels like a joke, it _sounds_ like a joke, but Billy doesn't get mean about it, just licks his lips, reaches up to lightly knock his knuckles against Steve's forehead. "Want you  _right_  here, baby."

"I _kinda_ just feel like I'm gonna fall down," Steve admits, because he's still a little bit stoned, and tired, and messed up, and everything.

He doesn't want to fall down and fuck it up, because this feels _good_. They're not doing even _doing_ anything, yet, but Steve already feels _safe_ , again? He feels like there's somebody who _wants_ him, and _loves_ him, and like maybe that's _okay_ , like. Like maybe Billy doesn't like looking after Steve, anymore, but maybe he just _likes_ him, again, the way he _used_ to.

"You won't fall. I _got_ you." Billy promises, "You're _good_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _chapter title from_ : blue jeans (lana del rey)  
>  _songs referenced throughout the text_ : take me to church (ellie goulding) // doing too much (paula deanda & baby bash) // when i get you alone (robin thicke) // the sound (the 1975) // boys (charli xcx) // ultralight beam (kanye west) // curious (hayley kiyoko) // teenage dream (katy perry) // sleepover (hayley kiyoko) // intro (j cole) // bood up (ella mai)

**Author's Note:**

> title from _voodooized_ by empires.
> 
>  
> 
> [im on tumblr right here, if you want to talk to me about This fic, or in fact Anything Else, Ever--](http://rvstyryan.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ps theres now some incredible art for this fic [here!](https://billyandsteve.tumblr.com/post/174424993157/come-get-me-if-your-heart-is-a-bad-thing-or)


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